Ruin Me, Darling
by myriadharbourchallenger
Summary: Colonel Fitzwilliam is the Earl of Matlock and can marry whomever he pleases. After a blissful courting period, Elizabeth accepts his marriage proposal; however, after getting to know Darcy better, Elizabeth's heart begins to long for another. A tale of forbidden love and trying to find happiness.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**

**I've had this story in my head for a long time, and I really want to get it right. I've been in love with Jane Austen's characters forever, and this story really means a lot to me, but in these first few chapters that I've posted, I've been a really lazy writer, and I know the story can be so much better, and that I can be so much better as I am writing it. So, with that in mind, I am going to be overhauling the first few chapters with some much needed revision, and I am going to be putting more time into my writing. I will try to update more before school starts, but please bear in mind that I have other priorities, and that I am working on other fanfics in addition to this one.**

**I love the response this story has been getting so far, and I hope you all continue to enjoy it as much, if not more, after the revision.**

**Thank you all for being great readers!**

**xx -M**

**Summary:**

**Colonel Fitzwilliam is a good-mannered, hard working soldier in Her Majesty's Army with a soft spot for his cousin, Georgiana, and a fondness for prostitutes, when his older brother, the Earl of Matlock, dies in a tragic accident, leaving no children to inherit his title, and Col. Fitzwilliam's life is changed forever. He is now Lord Richard Fitzwilliam, Earl of Matlock. With this title comes more responsibility (and urging from the Duke and Duchess of Matlock) to find a wife immediately, but now that he is his father's heir, the Earl has no need to worry about marrying a woman with a dowry (although that would be ideal) and can marry whomever he pleases. So, he is on holiday with Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy, and Miss Caroline Bingley when he meets the enchanting Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and after a blissful courting period, Elizabeth accepts his proposal. But as Elizabeth gets to know Mr. Darcy better, her heart begins to long for another. Will she be happy with Lord Fitzwiliam?**

**A tale of love and trying to find happiness. Rated K+ for now, but will probably change rating later.**

* * *

><p>Lord Richard Fitzwilliam smiled to himself as he listened to the steady trot of the horses drawing the carriage and the jingle of the reins and fastenings snapping back and forth. He looked outside at the beautiful country of Hertfordshire, and the smile creeping onto his face broadened, something promising-something exciting!-was going to happen here this summer. He could feel it in his bones.<p>

"Charles, I cannot thank you enough for the invitation to accompany you to Hertfordshire," Richard said, bouncing up and down in his seat like he did when he was a small child. He could not remember the last time he had been this...happy. After his brother's death, and the incident with Georgiana last winter, it had been hard to see the forest through the sleaze. Now that the sun was shining and he was looking out at vast, rolling hills, though, Richard could easily see life with a bit more optimism.

"Lord Fitzwilliam," Miss Caroline Bingley drawled, laying a gloved hand on Richard's forearm. "It is our honor, and our _pleasure_," she continued, chest heaving, and face flushed.

Richard had to fight to keep from rolling his eyes and removing her hand from his body. Caroline's gushing was a great annoyance to him. He saw Darcy smirking across from him, eyes never leaving the book he appeared to be engrossed in. Richard had the feeling whatever he was reading was not as entertaining to Darcy as listening to Caroline's flirtations. Richard sighed heavily.

Mr. Charles Bingley said, "Of course, it is wonderful that you and Darcy could join us. I appreciate you gentleman offering to help me get settled at Netherfield." He turned away from the window and Caroline hastily removed her hand from Richard's forearm. Although Charles was oblivious to her flirtation and manipulation of the many men with good connections in her acquaintance, Caroline was careful not to flaunt it in his face, lest he notice and threaten to take away her pocket money.

"You should know Darcy will be of far more help than I am apt to be," Richard said to Charles conspiratorially, drawing Darcy out of his book. "I know nothing of running an estate."

"Only how to bribe the staff and flirt with the maids," Darcy teased, putting his book away.

Richard and Charles laughed, but Caroline looked affronted.

"Darcy, didn't Georgiana give you a message to relay to Caroline?" Richard said, mollifying Caroline and trying to pay Darcy back for his smirk earlier, though Richard's retribution was far more consequential than a smirk, for Caroline rambled on for fifteen minutes about how she "wished her dear Georgiana could come," and how "she was so jealous that she was spending the holiday in Town" all the while batting her eyelashes at Darcy and making sure he had full view of her cleavage. "How is she, Darcy?" Caroline asked in a rough voice that was surely for his benefit, flushing like a dog in heat. "It feels like it has been ages since I have last seen her."

"She is well," Darcy said, very red in the face. "She is looking forward to spending the summer with her new companion, as well as working on her French with Mrs. Reynolds," he recovered, lying through his teeth. Both Richard and Darcy knew Georgiana was most likely moping around Pemberley, no longer touching her lessons, or more tragically, her piano forte. Richard felt immediately worse, for he knew Darcy was concerned about Georgiana and did not like talking about her. Darcy cleared his throat and opened his book once more. The attempt to escape Miss Bingley, however was not successful.

"How disappointing she could not come," Caroline said, licking her lips. "But I am _thrilled,_ so very _pleased, _that you decided to join us, Mr. Darcy,"

"It is disappointing indeed," Darcy said, glaring at Richard, who, despite himself, was sporting a look boasting of triumph. Ever since he had become the Earl of Matlock, Caroline had tried to win his affection, but she had always nursed a soft spot for Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy. He did not envy his cousin as he watched Fitzwilliam look away from Miss Bingley uncomfortably. Caroline, unaffected, turned to her brother, who was again staring out the window.

"How much longer, Charles?" she whined, crossing her arms like an overgrown five year old.

"Just a few more miles until we get to Netherfield," Charles said, glancing out the window. "I think."

Darcy chuckled, both relieved that Caroline had finally retreated, and enjoying his dear friend's endearingly inattentive nature.

"Is there a ball tonight, Charles?" Richard asked suddenly. "I heard rumors of a dance."

"I believe a country assembly," Bingley said brightly. "Would you be interested in attending?"

"Oh we must," Richard exclaimed. "For we all know how much Darcy loves to dance."

Darcy rolled his eyes, but he couldn't fight a smile. Richard, while obnoxious and forward, was good for Darcy's spirits. His excitement was tangible, and his good mood was contagious. He drew Darcy out of his shell, and Darcy had thoroughly enjoyed the increased amount of time he was spending with his cousin, now that he was no longer in the army. Darcy was spending more time out in society, no longer wary of the money-lust mamas of the Ton when he had someone to help defer them and laugh about their manipulations later.

Darcy sighed as they crested the final hill before pulling into Netherfield.

Perhaps, seeing as he was in good spirits, he would take a walk; surely they would have plenty of time before the assembly. It would be nice to get away from Caroline, at least. After telling a flustered Charles, overwhelmed to be sure, Darcy started off on a promising path that seemed to lead to another property.

Darcy soon lost himself in the landscape, his eyes wandering away from the path. Though he preferred the country of Derbyshire, he could not deny that Hertfordshire was beautiful, full of rolling hills, rich, lush greens, beautiful wildflowers, and looming trees that seemed to have come out of a fairy tale. _Georgiana would love it here,_ Darcy thought to himself. _It would be good for her to feel the sun on her skin again. _

He closed his eyes and relished the feel of the sun warming his skin and the tickle of the breeze on his face, walking briskly down a small knoll.

Suddenly, like the sharp intake of breath before you leap into water, he collided with something, or rather...someone.

Quickly dusting himself off, he tried to regain control of the situation...or, at least, his bearings. He saw the small brunette that he had _literally_ swept off her feet, and a thick book of poetry that had fallen out of her hands.

He reached down and picked it up, quoting a passage as he dusted it off and slipped it back into her surprised grasp. Breathless, he recited, "_There is a pleasure in the pathless woods; There is a rapture on the lonely shore; There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep sea, and music in its roars: I love not man the less, but Nature more…"_

_"_You are very well read sir," the young lady said.

"My mother's favorite poet was Lord Byron," he said, waving off her compliment. "Instead of bedtime stories she would recite poetry."

"Did you dream of broken hearts and nature instead of heroic princes and monsters?" The woman asked, her eyes sparkling.

Darcy laughed. "I wouldn't know, for I never remember my dreams. I could have lived my entire life without dreaming and I would not know."

"How tragic," the woman said. "I love dreaming. I hardly ever want to wake up."

"What of nightmares?" Darcy said, as they both moved simultaneously, and apparently subconsciously together down the path.

"Are they as terrifying as everyone says?" he asked softly, as if relaying one of his biggest insecurities. The woman laughed when she saw the mirth in his eyes. Her laugh was like tinkling bells.

"Yes," the young lady said, equally as soft, as if she was telling him a grave secret.

"I see," Darcy said. "I am lucking to have gone all these years without the torture of my own mind,"

"Yes," she said, smiling. "But you have never experienced the wonder of a dream. What is darkness without the light?"

"_Be thou the rainbow in the storms of life_,"she continued. Darcy smiled when he realized she was quoting Byron back to him.

_"But what is Hope? Nothing but the paint on the face of Existence; the least touch of truth rubs it off, and then we see what a hollow-cheeked harlot we have got hold of." _

She laughed. "That is one of my favorite lines. Only second to:

_There's music in the sighing of a reed;_

_There's music in the gushing of a rill;_

_There's music in all things, if men had ears;_

_The earth is but the music of the spheres."_

They had reached the estate nearest to Netherfield. _Longbourn._

Darcy smiled, the eloquence of the poem resounding in his mind. That had been his mother's favorite verse. "You are astounding," he told Elizabeth without thinking. For a moment they were both taken aback by his words.

"This is my home," the young woman said, moving towards the gate. "Thank you for the delightful conversation."

"No, thank you..." he trailed off, hoping that the young lady would tell her his name. When she didn't he prompted, "May I know your name?"

"Elizabeth," she said. Darcy was surprised by the forwardness of her giving him only her Christian name, but he liked the...intimacy of it. She held out her hand, and Darcy took it, bringing it up to his mouth and swiftly brushing his lips against her knuckles, not caring about propriety when their skin touched and he felt as though he was on fire.

"Fitzwilliam," he said, bowing slightly. "Pleasure to meet you."

* * *

><p>Elizabeth was smiling absentmindedly as Jane was pinning her hair up. Jane, of course, was already dressed and ready for the assembly, looking breathtaking in a simple pink dress and her hair up in a careless bun with wisps curling around her face. Elizabeth was thoughtlessly humming to herself, smiling as she twirled a finger around a small lock of hair.<p>

"Did you have a nice walk?" Jane asked, loving the opportunity to tease her sister, an opportunity that hardly ever came around.

"Yes, the weather's gorgeous, isn't it?"

Jane laughed lightly. "If by gorgeous you mean rainy, then yes," Elizabeth was jerked out of her daze when she registered the _pitter patter _of raindrops beating against the window.

"It was gorgeous when I was walking," Elizabeth said, choking down a laugh. "And I was reading wonderful poetry, you know how much I love Lord Byron,"

"Yes," Jane said. "Only because you read his poems at least once a week. It's never gotten you smiling like this before, though,"

"Well, we need the rain. Father said it would be good for the land," Elizabeth said, casting out for ideas. "Plus, I haven't had the pleasure of talking to Lydia today, and that always helps my mood,"

"_Lizzy!" _Jane said, laughing. "Will you tell me why you're really in such good spirits?"

"Would you believe it was because I am excited for the dance?"

"No, but I would believe it was because of Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome that walked you to the gate today."

Elizabeth's mouth dropped open, and she dissolved into giggles. "Jane! You just _teased _me! You just teased _me!_"

Jane laughed. "Well, I've been taught by the best." She gestured to her younger sister. "You're just lucky I was able to distract Mama and the girls," Jane said. "Or you would never hear the end of it, at least until he proposed."

"Don't be so dramatic, Jane," Elizabeth said, rolling her eyes. "I hardly know him. I'm not going to _marry him, _for goodness'..."

She was interrupted when her mother came clamoring up the stairs.

"Lizzy!" Her mother called upstairs. "Jane!" She ran up to the second floor as fast as her short legs could carry her, clutching at her stomach when she finally reached the girls' bedroom. "My poor nerves," she murmured, wiping her brow.

"What is it, Mama?" Jane asked sincerely.

"Yes, do tell us what has afflicted your poor nerves," Elizabeth teased. Jane looked at her reprovingly, but Mrs. Bennet was not fazed.

"Mr. Bingley, the gentleman who has let Netherfield Park is coming to town today! Rumor has it he is coming to the assembly!"

Lydia and Kitty, who had been listening at the door up to this point, came in squealing and flustered.

"Really, Mama?" Lydia asked, grasping her mother's hands and giggling. "Do you think he is in search of a wife?"

"Of course he is Lydia," Elizabeth commented. "All wealthy young men are, right, Mama?"

Mrs. Bennet did not pick up on Lizzie's sarcasm, but Lydia stuck her tongue out at her older sister. "We'll see if Mr. Bingley likes your sharp tongue, Lizzy!"

"There is more girls! He travels with Mr. Darcy of Pemberley, and his cousin, Lord Fitzwilliam, the Earl of Matlock!"

Lydia and Kitty screamed once more, and ran to their rooms to change their dresses and redo their hair.

"Put on your best dresses girls!" Mrs. Bennet declared. "I shall find you a good husband yet!"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes dramatically, but Jane smiled privately.

"Mama..." she ventured cautiously, careful not to show too much interest. "Do you by any chance know Mr. Bingley's Christian name? Or any of the other men traveling with him?"

"Why on _earth _would I know their Christian names, Lizzy? And why should you have need of them?"

"Nothing, I was just wondering. You know, silly, curious Lizzy who will never find a husband that will tolerate her nonsense."

"Too right you are," Mrs. Bennet said. "Hurry and get ready, dears."

Elizabeth put on her favorite dress, regardless, and paid extra attention to her hair. Jane smirked, but did not say anything.

* * *

><p>"Charlotte!" Elizabeth called across the busy dance floor. "Charlotte!" She hastened to her friend, who was smiling and waving at her.<p>

"Did you hear we have visitors?" Charlotte said, grinning with mirth. "Has your mama had a near heart attack, as well?"

"Goodness knows her nerves will never be the same after all this excitement," Elizabeth replied.

"Do you think they're handsome?" Charlotte asked, unable to conceal her curiosity, or her excitement for a minute longer.

"Lizzy knows they are," Jane said, uncharacteristically teasing again. "She ran into a very handsome, albeit nameless man, on her walk today."

"Is that so?" Charlotte asked, as Elizabeth blushed and was uncharacteristically quiet. "I should go on walks more often!"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "It wasn't _romantic,"_ she said emphatically. "He just walked me back to Longbourn from the oak tree. It wasn't more than five minutes conversation."

"Must have been a good conversationalist if he's making you blush like that," Charlotte said in a loud whisper.

"Oh, for goodness' sake!" Elizabeth said, laughing, "He will probably walk in here and see Jane and fall in love with her immediately. I'm nothing to look at in comparison! Or he will dance with you and decide that you are far more witty, Char," she huffed. "So, instead of waiting for him to appear, I am going to dance."

She marched away, leaving Jane and Charlotte to exchange glances and then giggle.

"Who knew? A man has finally caught Lizzy's eye!" Jane said, astonished.

Elizabeth walked a few feet away, and stood near a pillar, catching her breath. _Good Lord,_ she thought. _I must get ahold of myself. One conversation with a perfect stranger, and I'm already snapping at Charlotte and Jane! _She shook her head as if to clear it, and finally caught her breath, only to have it whisked out of her once more as a tall figure snuck up behind her, grabbed her hand, and whirled her dramatically out onto the dance floor.

"Tom!" Elizabeth screamed, breathless, as she caught up with the steps of the dance. He laughed as he spun her around. "Did I scare you?"

"Have you heard of asking a woman to dance, Tom?" Elizabeth teased. "You'll find a wife much easier that way."

"I'm not interested in a wife," Tom said, eyes sparkling. "None of the young ladies here are half as good of dancers as you are. And obviously I wouldn't want to marry _you." _

"Obviously!" Elizabeth said, laughing. Tom had been one of her best friends since she was a small child. Her father's best friend was Tom's father, and his father owned the bookstore. Tom and Elizabeth had grown up chasing each other around Longbourn and the small book shop in Meryton, much to their mothers' equal displeasure...for what could come of a friendship if the lady had no dowry, and the master had no property? It didn't seem to matter that Elizabeth's and Tom's affection for another would never surpass that of familial love.

"So, Miss Elizabeth," Tom said soberly as they stripped the willow, spinning around in a circle, addressing Elizabeth appropriately.

"Yes, Mr. Baxter?" Elizabeth inquired.

"Do you wish to know what that demon of a cat did today?" Elizabeth was already laughing as Tom launched into a story about how his small kitten managed to claw open a box of new books, and urinate on an entirely new shipment. Incidentally, Elizabeth had found the cat abandoned in a field on one of her walks, and she guilted Tom into taking it in, knowing her mother would say no.

"I've put lavender petals in all of the pages," Tom said, fighting a smile as Elizabeth had to stop dancing, for she was laughing so hard, and clutch at Tom, pulling him close and clinging to his shoulders, laughing into his chest.

"Yes," Tom said. "I'm glad you find this all so amusing. You better buy all of the books that smell like pee next time you're at the shop." He smiled fondly down at her as she launched into another fit of giggles crying she was laughing so hard.

The couples around them were laughing too, many of them knew how close Tom and Elizabeth were, and those who didn't know them well thought they were siblings, despite how they looked nothing alike, with Elizabeth's dark curls, and short body, and Tom's straight blonde hair and strong build. His shoulders were too broad to be related to Elizabeth, and his biceps were thicker than her head.

Mr. Darcy, however, did not make the assumption that they were siblings, when he saw Elizabeth embracing a tall, blonde, handsome young man who was smiling fondly down at her, as Elizabeth was laughing hysterically in the middle of the dance floor. He saw the couples around them looking at them fondly, like couples who were watching a young engaged couple. His heart had dropped violently into his stomach, and he thought he might pass out.

He saw the young man lead a giddy Miss Elizabeth off the dance floor to two other young women, and bow at all of them, before asking the other brunette to dance. His brow furrowed as he watched the blonde lead the other, taller, but more plain, young woman to the dance floor, and he watched as Elizabeth winked at him, and gave him a thumbs up. Surely that was not how two betrothed would interact?

Surely, the lucky man who was engaged to Miss Elizabeth would never stop dancing with her, would never let her out of his sight, even if propriety allowed him to dance with another woman.

_No, they must not be engaged, _Darcy decided, air flooding back into his lungs.

"Look at all of these pretty women, eh, Darce?" Richard said, stepping into the hall.

The room fell silent at their entrance, the entrance of two wealthy gentleman and the Earl of Matlock. Darcy was uncomfortable at their scrutiny, but with Richard laughing heartily at his side, it was bearable.

"Come on, Darcy," Richard said. "Let's go meet some papas so we can dance with their lovely daughters." He waggled his eyebrows at Darcy.

If there was one thing Darcy didn't like about Richard, it was his flippancy towards women. He supposed he was oversensitive, but, after all, Georgiana would be coming out in a few years' time, and he didn't want men like Richard asking to dance with her and pressuring her, especially after what happened with Wickham.

In all honesty, Darcy knew Richard would only settle down when his father made him, and even then, he would most likely turn to mistresses and prostitutes, much like he did now. Darcy knew Richard like a brother, and Richard would never be satisfied for long with only one woman.

Darcy followed him and Charles to the front of the room, where several men were standing and watching the dancing. Darcy searched the room and found Elizabeth who was being towed up to the front of the room, her eyes rolling, by her mama, who was looking determined. _Oh, oh_. Darcy thought. If there was one thing he could not stand, it was interfering mamas. Darcy saw too, beside Elizabeth, was a beautiful blonde girl, and following them was the short brunette who was dancing with the blond gentleman. Darcy already didn't like him.

A formidable looking man came towards their party, and introduced himself as "Sir William Lucas. This is my youngest daughter, Miss Maria, and my eldest..." he held his arm out, and the brunette hastened to his side, flushed from dancing. "Miss Charlotte Lucas."

He gestured to the rest of the people gathered around them. Darcy noticed Elizabeth's eyes kept wandering to his own, them flicking away when they made eye contact.

"This is my dear friend Mr. Bennet, Mrs. Bennet, and their daughters Miss Jane Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, and Miss Mary Bennet."

Mr. Bennet bowed, and the ladies all curtsied.

"It is a pleasure to meet you. I have two others, but they are already dancing!" Mrs. Bennet crooned.

"The pleasure is ours," Charles said, staring at the eldest Miss Bennet. "I am Mr. Bingley. These are my friends, Mr. Darcy," Darcy bowed his head. "And Lord Richard Fitzwilliam."

Richard bowed deeply.

"Miss Bennet," Charles said, walking over to Jane. "May I have the honor of your hand for the next dance."

Miss Bennet smiled and nodded, and Charles led her to the end of the floor.

Darcy opened his mouth to ask Elizabeth, but Richard beat him to it. "Miss Elizabeth?" Richard said. "Shall we?" Elizabeth smiled and gave him her arm, as they followed Charles.

Miss Mary looked down at her feet, obviously expecting not to be asked, and embarrassed.

"Miss Mary?" Darcy was surprised at the tenderness in his voice. Mary was probably Georgiana's age, and had just about as much confidence. "May I have the honor of the next dance?"

Mary looked up, astonished, and allowed her to lead him next to her sister.

Elizabeth looked over, surprise evident in her eyes, and was he mistaken? Or was there something in her gaze...had he impressed her? He skirted his gaze away before she thought that was his intention.

"You didn't have to ask me," Miss Mary said as the dance began. Her voice was quiet and unsure. "I mean...thank you, for the honor. But you didn't have to ask me...out of pity."

"Out of pity?" Darcy felt sorry for the girl, but she didn't need to know that. "I was going to ask you from the beginning."

Mary looked at him, surprised, and he lead her gracefully so she didn't miss the steps.

"Between you and me," he said, voice lowering, "I hate dancing. But you looked like a good conversationalist. I wanted to talk to you."

Mary allowed him a small smile. "Thank you, Mr. Darcy. But I'm not, really."

"What do you like to do?" Darcy asked her gently. "That always makes for good dancing conversation. No silly small talk."

"Well...I like to play the pianoforte and read Fordyce's sermons."

"Ah," Darcy said, smiling friendlily. "Forgive me, for I am not well acquainted with _Sermons for Young Women. _But, my sister loves to play piano forte as well. What are your favorite pieces?"

And so it went, and before long, Darcy had made a new friend.

Darcy intended on thanking Miss Mary Bennet for the wonderful dance, and walking her back to her father, just as Richard would do with Elizabeth. This would be the perfect opportunity to ask Miss Elizabeth for her hand in the next dance, but things did not go as planned when he heard Richard ask Elizabeth to dance again. And again.

After the first dance, Darcy said,

"Miss Mary, would you like to dance again." Then, lowering his voice, "I won't be offended if you say no."

Mary surprised him, and laughed. "The question is not whether or not I _want _to dance with you, Mr. Darcy. The question is, is it really worth it for both of us to be harassed by my mama because of one set."

Darcy laughed, and said, "Should I take you back to your father?"

"Yes," Mary said, curtsying. "Thank you for the wonderful dance."

"Thank you, Miss Mary," Darcy said, escorting her back to the front of the room. "That was the best dance I've had in a while."

Mary beamed at him as she went back to her father.

* * *

><p>Elizabeth could not believe her ears.<p>

"The question is not whether or not I _want _to dance with you, Mr. Darcy. The question is, is it really worth it for both of us to be harassed by my mama because of one set." Mary, teasing someone?!

Could one dance really boost your confidence that much?

Then again, from what Elizabeth had heard, Darcy talked to Mary about their favorite piano pieces...a subject Mary could talk about for days. Darcy had been kind and encouraged her.

What a gentleman.

"Are you distracted, Miss Elizabeth?" Lord Fitzwilliam said as their second set together began.

"No," Elizabeth said smiling. "I am just happy for my sister, Mary. She is hardly ever asked to dance. It was awfully kind of your friend, Mr. Darcy, to ask her."

Lord Fitzwilliam smiled. "I think she reminds him of his younger sister, Miss Georgiana Darcy."

"Is she traveling with you to Hertfordshire?"

"No," Fitzwilliam said. "She is staying at Pemberley, their home in Derbyshire."

"Oh," Elizabeth said. "I have heard the country is beautiful there,"

"It is the most gorgeous place in the world," Fitzwilliam said. "But I, of course, am biased, for I grew up there. However, if it is any consolation, Hertfordshire is almost as beautiful. Beautiful people, here, too,"

Elizabeth felt her cheeks warm, and, for once, was at a loss for words.

"May I ask," Fitzwilliam said, pulling her closer to him as they danced. "What was the joke?"

"The joke, my Lord?"

"That had you laughing so enchantingly when we came in," Richard said. "I do hope I am not taking you away from your betrothed..."

"Oh, no! Tom is...Tom is a dear old friend. We were childhood playmates. He is practically a member of the family. He was telling me about his troublesome kitten."

"Must be a devil," Fitzwilliam chuckled. "If it made you laugh so hysterically."

"You will find, my Lord, it does not take much to make me laugh."

"I'll keep that in mind," Fitzwilliam said. "And please, don't bother with this 'my lord' business. Please, if you're comfortable, call me Col. Fitzwilliam. Or Richard. Anything but Lord Fitzwilliam. That was my brother."

"Col. Fitzwilliam?" Elizabeth asked, puzzled.

"I was not born the Earl of Matlock, my dear Miss Elizabeth. I was the Duke's second son, and to make a living for myself, I enlisted. Then my brother, his wife, and his son were killed in a carriage accident last year."

Elizabeth gasped. "I am terribly sorry, it is terrible to lose a loved one."

Richard laughed humorlessly. "My brother was terrible to me. I would not call him or his wife a loved one. But his son..."

"I miss my nephew everyday,"

Elizabeth placed her hand on his cheek.

"But, yes, I am still, technically, a Colonel." His boyish smile returned, and the light came back into his eyes.

"Will you be called into war?" Elizabeth teased.

"Only if the country is in really bad shape."

Elizabeth laughed, almost as hard as she did with Tom.

Darcy watched from the side of the room, his heart constricting painfully as he watched her. He longed to make her laugh that hard, and feel her hand on _his _skin.

He wanted to feel her again. The touch of her skin to his made him feel alive. Watching her dancing all night with Richard made him feel like he was about to vomit.

For Elizabeth, the night passed quickly. Dancing with Col. Fitzwilliam was wonderful...she felt as if after one night they had been friends for years, and his smile made her heart flutter.

Jane kept looking furtively over at her, and then quickly glancing at Mr. Darcy.

Mr. Darcy...whose eyes haunted her from across the room. Who she could feel watching her as she danced, even as he made polite conversation with the gentleman and with her father. She smiled when she saw the look on her father's face. They must have been talking of books.

"My dear, Miss Elizabeth," Lord Fitzwilliam said after the final dance. "You are the best dance partner I have had in ages!"

Elizabeth felt her cheeks warm and she smiled unknowingly. "The pleasure was mine, Lord...Col. Fitzwilliam," she said. "Believe me, gentlemen like you do not often come to Hertfordshire."

"Men like me?" Fitzwilliam asked cheekily. "You mean rich and eligible."

Elizabeth's eyes twinkled at his teasing. "You know perfectly well that is not what I meant. But my fine mama is grateful for those characteristics. Please be careful to avoid her, she will ensnare you in her matchmaking."

"And you would loathe to be betrothed to me, I'm sure,"

"Naturally," Elizabeth said jokingly. "You are far too rich and handsome for a simple country maid like me."

"I do believe it is the other way around, madam," Fitzwilliam said. "You are too beautiful and intelligent for a wealthy cod like me."

Elizabeth blushed deeply but would not be outdone. "That is true, as well," she said.

Fitzwilliam chuckled.

He lead her back to her father, who was still talking to Mr. Darcy.

Their conversation was interrupted when Elizabeth and Richard stepped into the circle.

"Ah, Miss Elizabeth," Darcy said, bowing his head. "Your father tells me that you love poetry."

Elizabeth giggled, and choked back a deep belly laugh, one that would have her laughing harder than any cat or colonel. "Lord Byron is my favorite," she said sweetly. "Are you a fan of poetry, Mr. Darcy?"

Darcy nodded. "Not as much as my mother, unfortunately."

Richard smiled. "What was that poem she always used to read to us as boys, Darcy? It was her favorite! How did it go..._there's_ music...oh, come on, Darce, help me out!"

_"There's music in the sighing of a reed; __There's music in the gushing of a rill; __There's music in all things, if men had ears; __The earth is but the music of the spheres," _Darcy said quietly. Elizabeth gasped.

"_Between two worlds life hovers like a star,  
>'Twixt night and morn, upon the horizon's verge.<br>How little do we know that which we are!  
>How less what we may be! The eternal surge<br>Of time and tide rolls on, and bears afar  
>Our bubbles; as the old burst, new emerge,<br>Lash'd from the foam of ages; while the graves  
>Of empires heave but like some passing waves." <em>

Mr. Bennet recited. "That's the end of that same poem," he said. "It is a long, beautiful,"

"Haunting," Mr. Darcy interjected.

"Yes, haunting," Mr. Bennet continued. "I would know. Lizzy had me read it to her every night before she would go to bed. What would you say, my dear?" He turned to his daughter.

"Read the magic poem, Daddy," Elizabeth said, blushing. "I have the best dreams when you read the magic poem."

"Haunting, indeed," Mr. Darcy said. "Maybe I should rethink my nighttime reading."

Elizabeth hid her smile behind her hand, but Darcy knew that he had outdone both Richard and the blond, for neither of them had made Elizabeth smile so beautifully.

Soon, Charles had walked Jane over to where Mr. Bennet, Mr. Darcy, and Lord Fitzwilliam were waiting with Miss Elizabeth, Mrs. Bennet, and the rest of the Bennet daughters.

"We'll walk you out to your carriage," Charles said, smile broad.

The walk was quick, but before they entered their carriage, Richard pulled Elizabeth over to the side.

"Can I see you tomorrow?" He asked roughly, softly, too close to her ear. His touch was too much, his eyes were too blue, Elizabeth was lost in them. "Of course," she said, just as soft. "I'll be at Longbourn."

* * *

><p>The carriage ride was long back to Longbourn, at least for Elizabeth.<p>

"Oh, my dear daughters, there is hope for you yet!" Mrs. Bennet droned, in raptures about how excellent the night had gone. "My dear Jane, dancing all night with that delightful Mr. Bingley! Oh, my favorite, my dear, dear daughter! You shall be married before the spring, I am sure of it, the way he looks at you! Oh, you will be so close you home! So close, my perfect daughter, so we will not be tossed into the hedgerows! My dear, sweet girl!"

Elizabeth's eyes threatened to roll up into her head.

"And my Lizzy! We have found a man for you after all! All these years you had me worried about your sharp tongue, but my dear child, you have caught the eye of an Earl! Think of the fine carriages! Think of the balls! You can invite your sisters to your home for the season, and they will find good, rich, husbands! Oh, I could not be more thrilled."

"My daughters! My daughters! We are saved! I knew you could not be so pretty for nothing!"

"It was a dance, Mama!" Elizabeth said, after five more minutes of her mother continuing in this vein. "They didn't propose."

"Don't you think I know how these things work?" Mrs. Bennet asked, before continuing to speak of her fine daughters and their excellent prospects, speaking loudly until she fell into bed, asleep.

Elizabeth sighed heavily as she and Jane entered their room, closing their door to the sound of their rapturing mama. "You'd think," Elizabeth said as she let her hair down and changed into her nightclothes. "You'd think that we had just gotten married, the way she goes on."

"To mama, a dance is a proposal," Jane said patiently. "You know how many men she would have married me off to, simply because they asked for one dance. You danced with an Earl for five sets, I'm surprised she hasn't called into town to get you fitted for a wedding dress!"

"Do you really think he likes me?" Elizabeth said, smiling shyly.

"Lizzy," Jane said, rolling her eyes. "If he didn't, why would he dance with you all night long? There were plenty of other women without partners. Plus, don't think I didn't see him whisk you into the shadows before we got into the carriage."

"He was just asking if he could see me tomorrow," Elizabeth said softly. "Don't make it anymore romantic than it is!"

"Like that's not romantic!" Jane teased, ducking as Elizabeth threw a pillow at her. The girls laughed heartily. "It's almost as romantic as him asking you to dance FIVE TIMES IN A ROW!" Jane said in a singsong voice before they dissolved into giggles again.

* * *

><p>"Five dances, Richard?" Darcy said as he poured himself and his friends a hefty glass of port. "All the mamas in town will think you are on her way to propose in the morning. What were you thinking?"<p>

"Oh, Darce, don't patronize me," Richard said, chuckling. "What was I thinking? I was thinking Elizabeth is the most delightful creature I have ever met. And that includes you," Richard said, blowing kisses to Darcy. "But don't get jealous, baby," he said. "You're still my favorite."

Darcy rolled his eyes as Charles laughed uproariously.

"Besides," Richard said with a smile, taking a drink. "I was not the only one with eyes for only one woman, tonight," He toasted Bingley and took another gulp.

Bingley immediately sobered. "She's an angel," he said, deadpan. "An angel straight from heaven."

He had a dazed look about him that made Darcy and Richard exchange looks and chuckle.

"You are always falling in love on me, Charles," Darcy said.

"She's different. Jane Bennet is...perfection."

"Why don't you scold him, eh?" Richard asked Darcy.

_Because I don't have feelings for Jane._ "Because one day Charles is going to settle down with a perfect girl and have cute babies with ridiculously red hair," Darcy said. "I'm worried you are going to get married, be happy for a month, and then get bored."

"Not with Elizabeth," Richard said wistfully. "She keeps me on my toes, Darce. I've never met a funnier woman. Or a prettier one. _Those eyes_."

Darcy, who had been pierced by her eyes as well, kept quiet, as Charles went on a rant about how Jane Bingley was the epitome of perfection.

* * *

><p>"He's just..." Jane said, as they lie in bed trading secrets and feelings. "Mr. Bingley is everything a young man ought to be."<p>

Jane's eyes shone as she thought about the young gentleman.

"Handsome, conveniently rich, and fond of dancing?" Elizabeth teased, smiling widely.

"He is intelligent, good-mannered!" Jane protested.

"Don't worry Jane, I give you leave to like him. And he must like you a great deal to dance with you for THREE sets. He only danced with Miss Charlotte Lucas once, and the whole time not taking his eyes off of my dearest Jane. Oh, I knew she could not be so beautiful for nothing!" Elizabeth crooned in her best impersonation of Mrs. Bennet.

Jane dissolved into a fit of giggles. "But that was only the start of it!" Jane said when she had recovered. "I do not envy you, Lizzy, for she would not stop going on about how much money you will have! She is absolutely thrilled you found Lord Fitzwilliam, and that he likes you enough to dance five sets!"

"Oh, can we _please_ get over that?" Lizzy asked, laughing. "Honestly, it was not that big of a deal."

Jane laughed again. "Oh, Lizzy. But what of Mr. Darcy?"

"What of him?" Elizabeth asked, feigning indifference.

"Don't look at me like that!" Jane said. "I saw how you were looking at him when Sir Lucas was introducing us, and how he was looking at you!"

"Jane, what do you want me to say?" Elizabeth said, falling back into the covers. "If he liked me, like I thought he did, he would have asked me to dance."

"Maybe not," Jane said. "If I asked a girl to dance that you wanted to dance with, would you interrupt us when it looked like we were having a wonderful time? Or would you stand by and wait, because if you really liked the girl, you would want her to have a good time, no matter who it was with."

"That situation is entirely illegitimate!" Elizabeth said, giggling. "Because we are not _gentleman!"_

Jane laughed along with her. "But don't you see my point?"

"No," said Elizabeth. "There were plenty of moments when I thought he was going to come over and ask, it would have been appropriate, and we locked eyes, and everything, but he wouldn't walk over. He doesn't like me!"

"That's not what I'm asking you, Lizzy," Jane said softly. "I'm asking if you like him."

Elizabeth was quiet for a while. "He quoted Lord Byron to me as we walked home. He quoted Lord Byron and he kissed my hand and I misinterpreted it. But Col...Lord Fitzwilliam, he made me laugh. He's kind, and he has gorgeous blue eyes. And _he _asked me to dance. _He _wanted to spend the evening with me. _He _likes me. _He _wants to see me tomorrow. _He _is the gentleman I like."

"What about when he asked Mary to dance?"

"That was sweet of him," Elizabeth said. "But it has nothing to do with me."

"I like Mr. Bingley," Jane said softly, as if she were admitting it to herself for the first time. "Do you think he likes me, Lizzy? You are better at reading him than I am."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Lizzy said. "But I'm positive he's in love with you, even if he doesn't know it yet."

"Do you really think so?"

"Oh, Jane," Elizabeth said as she blew out the candle illuminating her room. "He looks at you like you're an angel."

She could hear Jane's smile. "Goodnight, Lizzy,"

"Goodnight, my dear Jane."

* * *

><p>"Well...goodnight, gentlemen," Darcy said, standing up. "We are going to visit the Bennets in the morning?"<p>

Charles and Richard gave their consent.

"Alright. See you all in the morning."

Darcy went up to bed then, and for the first time in his life, he had a dream.

All night long, he dreamt about a woman with dazzling eyes and beautiful smile that kept reciting poetry to him while stroking his hair, like his mother used to.


	2. Chapter 2

Darcy rose earlier than he usually did, after a tormented night's sleep. Elizabeth had haunted his dreams, and he understood now the fuss about dreams. He leapt out of bed at dawn, unwilling to toss and turn a minute longer. After pacing a few moments, he called his valet and dressed quickly, grabbing parchment and a quill and calling for his horse, Amadeus, to be prepared. Darcy was eager to clear his head, and he wanted to see more of the Hertfordshire country. He doubted he would see Miss Elizabeth this early in the morning, but he decided to take the same path as yesterday, and move away from Longbourn. He needed to get out of the house, maybe he would write a letter to Georgiana.

He set off faster than he would have at Pemberley, but it had been a while since he had gone riding, and he was restless and eager to feel the wind in his hair, searching for a place among the lush trees for him to sit and get lost in his thoughts.

His mind was already wandering by the time he reached a fork in the road, so he chose a path randomly, not giving it a second thought.

His thoughts were already occupied by a sole tenant: Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

Oh, he was in deep.

He had to stop thinking about her.

He was torn. Richard obviously had feelings for Elizabeth, it was the first time he had serious intentions towards anyone. Ever. (It was the first time Darcy had serious intentions towards a girl, either, but that was beside the point.)

Richard had always joked about becoming an old bachelor and being happier than everyone his age who was married with children. Darcy really believed that Richard would marry a woman with a hefty dowry and live out his years as the party animal he had always been.

But would Elizabeth, could Elizabeth tame him? Could she bring out the responsible side of his cousin, like the army had?

And if she could, then who was he to undermine their relationship? Who was he to say what was better for her? Maybe Richard could provide things for her Darcy could not. Maybe Richard could make her happier than anyone else in the world, and who was he, who was Fitzwilliam Darcy, to jeopardize all of that?

But what if he was wrong?

What if Richard married her, but went back to his reckless ways?

Who would Darcy be then?

Darcy would be the man who could have prevented Elizabeth being hurt.

He could have protected her.

He could have loved her more, loved her harder.

She could be happy with him, right?

But what of his duty?

What of his family? What would they think?

It was too soon, Darcy thought. Too soon to be thinking of marriage to a woman I met only yesterday. She could be evil. She could be playing all of us for her affections.

But in his heart, Darcy knew already. He knew that there was no other woman out there for him. He knew that there was no other woman in the world that could make him as happy as Elizabeth could. No woman in the world who he would love as much as he would love Elizabeth. No woman in the world that he would rather have as the mistress of Pemberley.

But... Darcy's heart sunk horribly.

But Richard was his brother. Richard was his favorite person in the world. Richard, who was there for him after Wickham hurt Georgiana, who convinced Darcy not to kill him, but who he later found breaking Wickham's nose. Richard, who loved Georgiana more than anything, who would be responsible for her. Richard, who was the only man in the world Darcy was sure would always be by his side.

If the situations were reversed, what would Richard do? _And what has he already done, _said a small voice in Darcy's head.

_That's not fair, he didn't know. He still doesn't know I have feelings for her. _

_Why won't you tell him? _

_Because his nephew just died, and his cousin was targeted by a money hungry demon. _

_Because his father has told him he would prefer to have me as a son. _

_Because he doesn't know what to do with all of this responsibility yet. _

_Because I love him, and I want his happiness more than I desire my own. _

Darcy sighed. Who was Elizabeth? Who was she to affect him so? A pair of lively eyes was not worth dishonoring his family, throwing away his reputation, and worst of all: ruining his relationship with Richard.

By the time Darcy had reached the top of a hill with a beautiful view of the country and a firm tree to lean against, he had decided. There was no point...Richard was already besotted with her, and set on making her his wife. In Richard's world, everything was simple: do whatever you want, get whatever you wish, and destroy whatever gets in your way. He was not a patient man; Richard made impulse decisions, jumped into action without giving it a second thought, not caring about anyone else's opinions. He had enlisted overnight, and Darcy was sure, if Elizabeth and her father were willing, he would have them married within the week.

Darcy sighed, and sat down underneath the tree. He closed his heavy eyelids, wishing for sleep.

Obviously he didn't...couldn't...think rationally anymore. Because as soon as his eyes closed, an image of Elizabeth played beneath him. He groaned and pulled out his parchment, beginning to write his letter.

_Dearest Georgiana, _he began, before a twig snapped violently above him, and he jerked his head up.

He felt his eyes widen in surprise, for Miss Elizabeth Bennet was standing in the tree above him, hair let loose around her face and skirt blowing in the wind, a book tucked enchantingly under her arm. Her face was screwed up tightly and her cheeks were beet red.

"Miss Elizabeth!" Darcy exclaimed. "Forgive me, I did not realize you were...er...there."

Elizabeth bit her lip and nodded. "Good morning, Mr. Darcy."

"Do you need assistance getting down, Miss Elizabeth?" He asked. _Do not look up her skirt, Darcy, _he told himself. _Don't you dare look up her skirt. _The image of her biting her lip was erotic enough.

"Yes, thank you, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said slowly. "You are a true gentleman."

He held out his hand and she slid her small one in his, then placed the other one on the tree branch. She swung herself down, gracefully lowering herself onto the ground, before losing her balance and crumpling down on the ground, pulling Darcy down with her.

"Oh my goodness, I am so sorry!" Elizabeth said, finding herself trapped underneath Mr. Darcy. His eyes were wide and his face was flushed. Surprisingly, instead of being filled with embarrassment, she was filled with heat. She was all too aware of Darcy's hands cradling her waist, his thumbs tracing her ribs as he pulled himself off of her and helped her up. Every time he brushed against her, it felt as though Elizabeth had caught fire, and she would melt. Elizabeth was sure she was as red as an officer's uniform, but she was angry. Who was he to make her feel this way, especially after he had neglected to dance with her!

She would not be made a fool, and she was in no mood to have her heart broken, especially when there was another gentleman...another Lord!...interested in her.

Darcy had no right to make her feel this way.

She wouldn't allow it.

"We have got to stop meeting like this," Darcy said, voice low. Elizabeth thought her heart had stopped. _No. I will not let him affect me, _she told herself, despite the fluttering in her stomach.

"I do not think I have ever been so embarrassed in my entire life," Elizabeth said after a moment's awkward silence, fighting to keep her voice cold. "I have never been caught in a tree before."

Darcy was surprised by the coolness in her voice.

"I won't tell if you won't," he teased. Elizabeth bit her lip.

"Yes, well..." She said, wanting to leave him as soon as possible. She didn't want to get more attached to him.

"What's that you're reading?"

Elizabeth flushed. "_The Order of the Pigeons." _She crossed her fingers, hoping he had not read the book.

"I read that last month," Darcy said slowly. "It's not written for a lady's enjoyment." He was teasing her again, but Elizabeth did not acknowledge it.

"I do not believe in being told what I can and cannot read," Elizabeth said, no emotion leaking into her voice. "_The Order of the Pigeons _may be...explicit, but I still find it instructive."

"Instructive?" Darcy's eyebrows raised, and he grinned delightfully, causing Elizabeth to smile slightly, despite herself. "In what way do you find it instructive, Miss Elizabeth? In the art of war? Of killing? Or in other...manners."

She was not going to rise to his bait, although she was impressed that he was familiar with _The Order._ It was a new book, she had purchased it only a few days ago, and her dear friend Tom, who worked in the bookstore, told her it had been published only a few weeks prior.

"Other manners, of course," Elizabeth said, deadpan.

Darcy felt his jaw drop. Was she really admitting to finding this book instructive on matters of sex? He was at loss for words, until he noticed the smile creeping onto her face.

"Ah," he said, smiling. "The lady thinks I am gullible."

"Only for a moment," Elizabeth teased, before catching herself. "I should leave you to finish your letter, Mr. Darcy."

She walked away before he had a chance to respond, and Darcy was surprised. She caught him utterly off guard. He turned back to his letter, struggling to find words to tell Georgiana about his present confusion. _Figures, _Darcy thought to himself. _I go for a ride to clear my head, and I end up more confused than ever. _

_Dearest Georgiana, _he began again.

_I find myself in the greatest predicament. Would you ever consider coming out to Hertfordshire? There is someone I think both Richard and myself would long for you to meet._

* * *

><p>Elizabeth berated herself as she walked home. She could not help but feel guilty, as if she had betrayed something.<p>

_Had _she betrayed something?

She had told Jane that she didn't like Mr. Darcy last night, but judging by the rapid beating of her heart, she had lied.

She had danced with Col. Fitzwilliam all night long, and she thought he had intentions towards her. Was she betraying whatever she had with him?

Or was she betraying the promise she made to herself, late in the night before she fell asleep, was she betraying the midnight whisper, "I do not like Darcy"?

Maybe, she thought as she ran back to Longbourn, maybe sometimes you lie to yourself. Maybe sometimes you lie to yourself and you don't even realize it.

She had a sinking feeling in her stomach as she realized:

she was betraying the small part of herself that was starting to fall for Darcy.

She shook her head firmly. There would be no more falling. Not out of trees, and most definitely not in love. Not with Mr. Darcy.

* * *

><p>Jane watched as Elizabeth changed into a pale green dress, pulling her hair up with care, and rouging her cheeks.<p>

She was worried about her. Something had changed over the course of the last two days. Something had gone out in Elizabeth's eyes, something so slight that Jane was sure no one else had noticed it.

But something had definitely changed, and Elizabeth seemed...conflicted. Upset.

And surely, love should bring more light to your eyes.

"Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy, and Lord Fitzwilliam are here," Jane said softly from the doorway, leaning against the cool wood.

Elizabeth straightened, and smiled at her sister. "Jane, you don't have to worry. Mr. Bingley loves you," she said, misreading Jane's expression.

Jane managed a small smile. "I'm not worried about Mr. Bingley," she said, but Lizzy was already brushing past her and heading downstairs.

She watched as Elizabeth smiled brightly at the gentlemen, and greeted them, interrupting their mother, who was rambling about a ball. Jane sighed, and entered the foyer, saying hello.

"Shall we go for a walk?" Elizabeth asked, ignoring Lydia begging if she could come along, and ushering the three gentleman and Jane out into the garden. Jane quickly found herself at Mr. Bingley's side.

"My sister wants to convey her apologies that she could not come to call today," he set as they set out on a long path. "She wants to meet you and your family, but my sister and her husband arrived today, and Caroline wanted to welcome them."

"That was very thoughtful of her," Jane said sweetly. "I hope to meet the rest of your family someday."

"Yes," Mr. Bingley said with a wide smile. "Well, that's what I was getting at,"

_He's so adorable,_ Jane thought, a small smile plastered onto her face. "She wanted to invite you and Miss Elizabeth to dine with her tomorrow. I will be hunting with Fitzwilliam and Richard, but..."

"That sounds wonderful, Mr. Bingley. Thank Caroline very much for the invitation."

"Should I tell her you are coming?"

"Yes,"

"That is delightful, Miss Bennet. Absolutely delightful."

* * *

><p>"Tell me about something you love," Fitzwilliam said, unable to tear his eyes away from Elizabeth, her reddish brown hair glowing full of sunlight.<p>

"I love...sunshine. And rain. I love reading, reading anything, and dancing," Elizabeth said.

"Yes, but I knew all of that already," Richard teased. Elizabeth laughed a small laugh. "Tell me something you love, that nobody else knows."

"You want to hear my secrets?" Elizabeth asked him with a smile.

"But of course."

Elizabeth paused, then, "I don't trust my own judgment."

"Why not?" Richard asked.

"Promise not to judge me? Because this is a very big secret," She was serious suddenly.

"You can trust me," Richard said softly, absentmindedly brushing his fingers against the back of her hand. Elizabeth warmed at his touch, wishing he would brush her skin again.

She took a deep breath and then began.

"The gentleman who sold Netherfield...he inherited it from his grandfather. He planned on selling it, but he came up for a season to see if he liked it after all. He was a very amiable gentleman, and I thought...I misjudged his character. I fell in love with him, and I was certain he was in love with me. He never promised me anything, but I was so _sure _he was going to propose. But he had a large amount of debt, and he married a woman from London with a hefty dowry."

"I am very sorry, Miss Elizabeth," Richard said quietly after a moment.

"It was a long time ago," Elizabeth said. "But, I do not trust my judgement any longer."

"Do you not trust your judgement? Or do you not trust yourself? Do you not trust your heart to fall in love?"

Elizabeth was quiet for a moment. "I think...I think both."

They were quiet for a while, walking in a comfortable silence.

"Your turn," Elizabeth said softly. "I can't be the only one giving up her secrets."

Richard chuckled. "I suppose it's only fair. Okay..." He struggled to come up with a secret.

He didn't think I_ almost killed a man last spring _would impress her.

Nor _my father despises me and I will forever be jealous of Darcy. __  
><em>

He couldn't possibly tell her _I fell in love with a prostitute when I was seventeen. _

So he made something up.

"It was my fault my nephew died. We were all dining at my parents' estate in Kent for my mother's birthday, and I picked a fight with my brother. We had a huge row, and he had enough, but I kept pursuing the issue. Finally he erupted in anger, my brother had a terrible temper, and yelled at all of us...me, my mother and father, even Darcy and Georgiana, who he had a particular fondness for. He ordered the carriage to be readied, and demanded that he and his family would leave, even though the weather was terrible. I drove him out in the middle of a terrible snow storm..." At this point, Fitzwilliam actually managed to tear up. "It was my fault my nephew died...and I have not forgiven myself, will never be able to forgive myself. He was my favorite person in the world...and I...I _killed_ him."

Elizabeth's heart went out to him. "Oh, Col. Fitzwilliam, it was not your fault! You are not to blame for something that was out of your control!"

She reached over and continued to comfort him, not knowing that the only truth to what Richard just told her was that his brother and his family had been dining at their family's estate for their mother's birthday. They left in the storm, because his brother had business in London the next day.

She dried his tears and rubbed his back until his cries subsided, and comforted him until he was able to continue along the path.

As they continued, conversation went on, and soon Elizabeth and Richard were laughing, teasing, and forgetting about their confessions. Richard could not take his eyes off of Elizabeth, and somehow it escaped his notice that her eyes would frequently dart to Darcy, who was walking by himself, admiring the garden and the beautiful view. He would occasionally wander to Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam, and point something out, or flit to Mr. Bingley and Jane, and ask Jane about a flower. Elizabeth tried not to notice the expression on his face with Col. Fitzwilliam cut a rose and gave it to her, or how he looked away, as if in pain, when Fitzwilliam leaned in and whispered something in her ear. Elizabeth's heart skipped a beat when the Colonel's fingertips brushed the small of her back, and she pretended it was because his touch was electrifying, not because Darcy was smiling at her.

When they finally reached Longbourn, Fitzwilliam pulled her to the side.

"How often do you visit Meryton, Miss Elizabeth?"

"Quite often, my aunt Phillips lives in Meryton, so my sisters and I visit her. We also frequently shop there."

"Would it be quite boring, then, if you came along with me, Mr. Darcy, and Mr. Bingley the day after tomorrow? Jane, of course, is also invited."

Elizabeth smiled shyly. "It would not be boring at all, sir. We would very much enjoy it."

"Excellent."

They were interrupted by Mrs. Bennet, who had already bullied Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy into agreeing to dine with the Bennets within the month, and she was in the process of coercing Mr. Bingley into having a ball at Netherfield.

"You should save them," Elizabeth said softly to Richard. "If you don't stop her now, she will not rest until they've agreed to six balls and inviting her to Netherfield at Christmas."

Richard thought the embarrassed blush on Elizabeth's cheeks was quite endearing. So did Darcy, but no one noticed.

* * *

><p>"I felt awful for poor Mr. Darcy today," Jane said as they climbed into bed that night. "Being alone like that."<p>

"He was not alone, Jane," said Elizabeth. "He was with all of us."

"_Physically, _yes, but not _emotionally_."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, but said nothing.

"Did you notice how he was looking at you?"

"Jane, what are you talking about?"

"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about. He couldn't take his eyes off of you."

"I didn't notice anything," Elizabeth lied.

"Is this about Jonathan?" Jane asked quietly, looking down at her hands.

"What does _Mr. Powell _have to do with _anything?_" Elizabeth asked, her voice dangerously low.

"You fell in love with him, Lizzy. You fell in love with him two summers ago, and you thought none of us knew. _I _knew. _I saw. _And you haven't been the same since that summer. You haven't laughed, and you only smile when someone is watching, and I've been so _worried _about you. I was worried everyday."

"Jane..."

"Jonathan has to do with _everything, _Lizzy. Because the other day, when you came in before the assembly, you _looked like you used to. _You looked like you used to. You looked like you did when Jonathan was in town. You smiled like you used to, before he left."

"Jane..."

"Jonathan has to do with _everything_, Lizzy, because before, you wouldn't have let Mr. Darcy walk alone today, like a neglected puppy. You would have talked to him, had conversation with him, _and_ Lord Fitzwilliam. And you definitely wouldn't ignore him because _you're scared of how he makes you feel." _

"Jane...please, stop."

Elizabeth blew out the candle, then, and both girls laid their heads down, tears streaming down each of their cheeks.

* * *

><p>AN: I hope y'all are enjoying the story! Please review, I appreciate it so much!

I've revised everything I've written so far, condensing it into two chapters. So sorry for all the confusion, but from here on out, everything should be original!


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **

**Hey, everyone! I want to apologize for the confusion with the revision updates...all the revision is done now, though, so hopefully everyone's figured out what happened by now. **

**Here's the thing: I feel like no matter how many drafts of this story I write, I can't ever get it right. **

**So maybe if you're feeling generous, review tell me how I'm doing or how I can create a better story, because I think this story has the potential to be great, and Jane Austen's characters deserve the best. **

**I hope everyone enjoys this chapter!**

Elizabeth could see right through Miss Caroline's Bingley. She saw how Caroline's eyes lingered derisively on Elizabeth and Jane's dresses when they came in; she saw her sneer as she pointedly asked if they were "used to" imported food, noting that it was probably too expensive for the likes of _them. S_he saw how Miss Caroline's eyes followed Lord Fitzwilliam and lingered on Mr. Darcy.

"I am not fond of Miss Caroline," Elizabeth said on the carriage ride back to Netherfield. "In fact, I do not like her at all."

"That's unfortunate for you, then," Jane said matter-of-factly. "Because we agreed to have tea with her on Saturday."

"_You _agreed to tea," Elizabeth huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Maybe I will fall ill on Saturday."

"You wouldn't dare!" Jane said. "And even if you did decide to be so rude, our dear mama would rethink that decision very quickly for you."

"I suppose she would," Elizabeth said. "But it's not as if we are not seeing your Mr. Bingley and Lord Fitzwilliam tomorrow."

"You've forgotten _your _Mr. Darcy," Jane said.

"He's not _my _anything," Elizabeth said crossly.

"Hmmm," Jane said, looking at the window. "I found it interesting when Caroline mentioned his sister was coming to Hertfordshire."

"Interesting? Pray, what was interesting about it?"

"She was going to spend the season in Derbyshire. According to Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy was quite upset about it, and wanted her to join their party, but he and Lord Fitzwilliam decided it would be best for her to spend sometime alone with her new companion and housekeeper."

Elizabeth's brow furrowed. "Lord Fitzwilliam? Deciding something for Miss Darcy? Why on earth would he have anything to do with the decision for her to stay in Derbyshire?"

"Well, he is her guardian, isn't he? Or one of her guardians, I suppose. Mr. Darcy, of course, would obviously be her other guardian."

By this point, Elizabeth was feeling very stupid indeed. "Jane, I do not understand you. What do you mean, Lord Fitzwilliam is one of her guardians? Or Mr. Darcy, for that matter?"

"Lizzy," Jane said gently. "Mr. Darcy's parents died several years ago. It was very tragic indeed, according to Mr. Bingley. That is why Mr. Darcy is so serious all the time, and why he is so worried for Miss Darcy. He asked Lord Fitzwilliam to be Miss Darcy's second guardian, because he said he trusted no one more. Mr. Bingley says Mr. Darcy cares very much for Lord Fitzwilliam, and once admitted to him that he cares more about Lord Fitzwilliam's feelings than his own."

"Is that so?" Elizabeth asked softly. "Mr. Bingley is very well informed."

Jane smiled. "You'd expect him to be. He admits Mr. Darcy is his best friend. I'm just as well informed about you, even though I'm not your best friend."

Elizabeth looked affronted. "What do you mean, 'you're not my best friend'?"

"Charlotte is your best friend, Lizzy," Jane said simply.

"I suppose, Charlotte is my best friend. But you are my _very best_ friend. Plus my sister," Elizabeth said, lying her head on Jane's shoulder. "Which should count for something," she added, as an afterthought.

"I don't know," Jane said. "We all know how you feel about Lydia."

Elizabeth laughed, and then said, "Well, I can think of one good thing that came from this luncheon,"

"You got to try imported food for the first time?"

"Jane! I must get used to your teasing!" Elizabeth said with a laugh. "No, I was thinking that if one good thing came from that uncomfortable experience, it is now there is no question whether Mr. Bingley likes you."

"Whatever do you mean?" Jane said, masking her attachment with a tone of exasperation.

"Mr. Bingley obviously cares for you a great deal, otherwise, Miss Caroline would not have been so polite when she obviously did not like us. Or, I should say, me. And, of course, why on earth would Mr. Bingley import food if he he was not fond of you?"

They both gave a small laugh, and then the rest of the carriage ride passed in silence. Before they knew it, they were home.

* * *

><p>"How was it?" Kitty asked as soon as they entered the sitting room upon their return. Mrs. Bennet, Kitty, Lydia, and even Mary were sitting there in anticipation, with the facade of busywork in their laps.<p>

"Yes, tell us!" Lydia urged.

"All the details, girls!" Mrs. Bennet chimed in. "All the details!"

Jane sighed and sat down, smiling amusedly as each of the eager woman unconsciously leaned towards her, as if a closer proximity would encourage a flood of description.

Elizabeth laughed as she watched this, before sitting next to Jane. "You'd think we'd have just got in from dining with the Queen!" she exclaimed. "Well, Jane...where shall we begin?"

Jane thought about it for a moment. "Hmmm...well, we arrived at Netherfield and were introduced to Miss Caroline Bingley, her sister, Mrs. Hurst, and her husband, Mr. Hurst by Mr. Bingley."

"Yes, then the gentlemen made polite conversation before leaving to hunt," Elizabeth continued.

"Then Miss Bingley announced that lunch was ready,"

"So we ate," Elizabeth said, chuckling. "Obviously."

Jane laughed also. "And then we retired to the study for a game of cards before returning home," She concluded.

The girls went up to their bedroom before any further questions could be asked.

"Ridiculous!" Mrs. Bennet said in a tone equal parts exasperation and anger. "I could have surmised all that for myself, thank you very much!"

"How lucky they are," Lydia said bitterly to Kitty. "To have young men pay attention to them! To be in love!"

"Do you think they are in love?" Mary asked.

"Jane is to be sure," Kitty said certainly.

"Yes, that is obvious to anyone, but what of Lizzy? Do you think she is in love with Lord Fitzwilliam?" Mary murmured.

"I think at this point, it wouldn't matter if she loved him or not..." Kitty said.

"Which she doesn't," Lydia interrupted.

"...She'll have to marry him, if only for her reputation's sake," Kitty continued. "Five dances at one assembly...that's practically announcing your engagement! If she doesn't marry Lord Fitzwilliam, it will make her look terrible."

"Lizzy wouldn't dance with him five times if she didn't like him, though, would she?"

"Hard to say," Lydia said, rolling her eyes. "She wouldn't turn down his offer, that would be rude."

"After three dances?" Kitty said incredulously. "She could have made up an excuse that another gentleman had asked her. Or Papa!"

"He is a _Lord _after all," Lydia said. "I wouldn't say no to him, even if he was dreadful. Think of all the pocket money!"

"Yes, but we all know Lizzy's not like that," Kitty said impatiently. "She won't ever marry if not for love. She's lectured us about it enough times."

"Right, but do you think Lizzy will fall in love again?" Mary asked. She looked over her shoulder at their mother, who was still ranting about "Needing more details! You'd think with all that girl reads, she could be a little more eloquent!" Mrs. Bennet was painfully unaware of her other children's conversation, and she was still muttering to herself when she picked up a long forgotten embroidery pillow and began working on it, with ears for nothing but her own voice. Satisfied, Mary turned back to the others. "I mean...after...Mr. Powell." She said the name like a swearword, and Kitty blanched, while Lydia burst into a fit of giggles.

"Jonathan? It was a shame he left when he did, he was so _handsome,"_ Lydia bemoaned. "I mean, we were all _sure _he was going to ask her to marry him! Poor Lizzy was devastated when he left! But it was a fun summer, having someone so yummy to _look at_."

"Lydia!" Mary scolded, affronted.

"He was gorgeous," Kitty admitted. "And Lizzy was very fond of him. I really do think she loved him, which made it so much worse when he left to marry that rich girl from London."

"Exactly," Mary said. "I certainly wouldn't want to feel like that again. She didn't go on a walk for a year, did she?"

Kitty sighed. "She mostly just stayed in her room looking sadly out the window," she remembered. "And at dinner, she would always be polite and quiet. I think it was the longest Mama went without yelling at her. I think Jane actually started crying when Lizzy made fun of Lydia...it had been so long since she had seemed like herself."

"Oh, yes," Lydia said sarcastically. "It was all very touching, when Lizzy decided to tease me again. Lord knows I don't ever deserve a reprieve from everyone's ridicule."

"Does it affect your poor nerves, also?" Kitty asked, ducking when Lydia through a pillow at her.

"Mama always says you take after her, Lydia," Mary said.

Lydia scowled, but leaned forward to share her gossip. "Did you know he wrote her?" she said in hushed tones.

"No!" Kitty whispered, mouth falling open. "You've got to be kidding! How did you know this?"

"And why didn't you tell anyone?"

"I know because I got the post that day. And I didn't tell anyone, because...you should have seen the look on her face when she read it. Like all the blood drained out of her."

"Do you know what it said?" Mary asked.

Lydia nodded. "I snuck a look at it whenever she went to the library. She knows none of us go in there, and I think she wanted to be alone. He basically told her he loved her, and that he was sorry for all the pain he had caused her. He said that if there was any way at all that they could be together, he would marry her in an instant, but that he didn't fancy she would want to be married to a prisoner, because he needed to pay off his debts."

"Lizzy could have used that note to force him to marry her, if he said that he wanted to in writing!" Kitty said, outraged that such a man existed."

"Don't be ridiculous, Kitty," Mary said. "Lizzy would never force someone to marry her, even if it would ruin her reputation. She wants to marry for love, and nothing else."

"Besides, he was already married when he sent her the letter. It was after she stayed with the Gardiners in London to see him."

"That horrible, wretched man!" Kitty said. "He had just inherited his father's estate, and Netherfield, which he sold! He could have paid off his debtors with that money!"

"And live in poverty with Lizzy for the rest of their lives?" Lydia asked, incredulous. "Would you want that life for her?"

"I'd want her to be happy. And in love," Mary said.

"Pssh. Happiness comes and goes when your poor," Lydia said. "Just look at Mama! I'm sure she was happy and in love once, but now? Now all she cares about is money! I say, find the richest man you can, and live happily ever after with your servants and your carriages and comfort. Lizzy will never find a man richer than Lord Fitzwilliam who is interested in someone with such a meager dowry."

"Nor someone so friendly and so handsome," Kitty said.

"You saw her at the ball the other night, Mary," Lydia said to Mary, who still looked dubious. "Even if she's not in love with him, she still had a pleasant time. If he can make Lizzy laugh like that, she will soon fall in love with him."

"And by then Mr. Powell will be long forgotten," Kitty said certainly.

"Do you think Mr. Powell will ever be forgotten?" Mary said quietly, wanting to believe that Lord Fitzwilliam would romance Lizzy and make her forget all about her first love and heartbreak.

Mary's question went unanswered by all but Jane, who, in a very Lydia-esque manner, had been listening at the door for quite some time. She walked quietly up the stairs and into her and Lizzy's room, where Elizabeth was looking sadly outside, where it was pouring down rain.

"I'm in an awful mood," Elizabeth said. "First Caroline Bingley, now the rain. I was so looking forward to a walk."

"Hoping to run into someone?" Jane asked.

"Of course not," Elizabeth said. "Lord Fitzwilliam is hunting today, Jane, you know that. Plus he is not fond of walking."

"I think perhaps the rain drove them back to Netherfield," Jane said quietly. "Regardless, I know they were hoping to be back before Georgiana arrives, which should be sometime tonight."

"Goodness, Jane," Elizabeth said. "You listen far more than I do."

Jane smiled softly. "No, Mr. Bingley just talks an awful lot when he's nervous. I think I make him nervous," she admitted shyly.

Elizabeth grinned. "I'm sure you do. Mr. Bingley is very taken with you."

"As I am with him," Jane said. "I don't think he realizes the depth of my regard, however."

"None of us do, do we?" Elizabeth said. "Jane, you are a perfect angel, but if you have a fault, it is that you are too shy and modest. Mr. Bingley is not the first man to feel his love is unrequited."

"Do you really think he feels I do not care for him at all?"

"Oh, no, dear," Elizabeth said. "But I don't think he realizes that you are in love with him, too."

"I'm not in love with him," Jane said, blushing scarlet.

"Oh, posh. Don't lie to me, Jane. You've never looked at a man before with such affection in your entire life."

Jane smiled and looked down at her hands. "Fine. I won't lie to you if you won't lie to me."

"What on earth would I ever lie to you about?" Elizabeth said, laughing a little. "You know more of my secrets than I do."

Jane smiled knowingly. "How you feel about Mr. Darcy,"

It was Elizabeth's turn to blush scarlet. "Jane..."

"You are perfectly right," Jane said. "I do hide my feelings, but I cannot deny that I think I am falling in love with Mr. Bingley. But, my dear Lizzy, you cannot hide your feelings, at least not to me, but you deny them constantly."

"What am I supposed to say?" Elizabeth said, her voice breaking. "That I harbor no affection for Mr. Darcy? That all my regard belongs to Fitzwilliam?" Elizabeth's eyes, usually so clear, were brimming with tears. Jane's heart went out to her; Elizabeth had not even cried when Jonathan left; she had just retreated into herself for months, becoming a shadow of who she used to be.

"What do you want me to tell you, Jane? The truth?"

Jane grabbed hold of Lizzy's hands and went to her, muttering, "Oh, darling," as they both sat on the bed.

"The truth?" Elizabeth asked again. "The truth is that, yes, Mr. Darcy was the first man I ever _considered _liking after...Jonathan. He was the first gentleman who made me laugh since he left. And I don't care about Earls or Lords, all I wanted that night at the assembly was for him to ask for a dance. Just one, Jane! Just one! But he stood on the side of the room, making polite conversation and dancing with _Mary_, and all I could think of was how much I cared for him in the shortness of one afternoon! But he didn't dance with me. He didn't even want to."

A tear slipped from Elizabeth's eye, cascading down her cheek before Lizzy hastily wiped it away.

"The truth is that Lord Fitzwilliam is kind, and open, and funny, and I could be happy with him. He is easily already one of my closest friends, and I have only known him for a few days. I could fall in love with him."

"The truth, Jane, is that Mr. Darcy could break my heart. Would break my heart. And I can't..." She took a deep, shuddering breath, and swallowed the thickness in her throat. "I couldn't live through the devastation of another heartbreak. I wouldn't survive it."

* * *

><p>By the next morning, Elizabeth had found her smile again, clad in a pale green dress that looked ravishing on her figure and brought out her eyes and the golden highlights in her hair. She wanted to look her best today, and she convinced it was because she was going to Meryton with Lord Fitzwilliam, completely disregarding the other members of the party: Jane, Mr. Bingley, and Mr. Darcy.<p>

Elizabeth persuaded herself to take a sharp intake of breath whenever Fitzwilliam smiled at her, but she could not prevent the _sharper _intake of breath that occurred when Darcy's eyes met hers, and she was met with his gentle gaze and a soft, shy smile. She smiled softly back, and hoped Fitzwilliam thought it was directed towards him.

She didn't have time to dwell on the matter, for as soon as the gentlemen arrived and were greeted, Fitzwilliam was striding towards her and pulling her into an alcove off of the hall, still visible from the foyer, but where they could talk privately. Elizabeth desperately hoped Mrs. Bennet did not see Lord Fitzwilliam grasp her hands, or she would be hearing about it until they were married.

"I've only come today to apologize," Lord Fitzwilliam said in a rush. "Urgent business has called me to London, but I wanted to say goodbye before I left, and to say I'm sorry I am not able to accompany you to Meryton."

Elizabeth smiled at his gentleness, and felt something shift in the pit of her stomach. Maybe she was starting to fall for him, after all.

"You do not need to apologize, Lord...Col. Fitzwilliam. Of course I will miss your company, but I will make do with my companions today," she teased.

Fitzwilliam smiled. "I will make it up to you," he said, swiftly bringing her hand to his lips and kissing it gently. "I promise," he said, holding her gaze with smoldering eyes.

He left her then, leaving her to feel the tingle his lips left on her knuckles, and to be fiercely reminded of the afternoon when she met Darcy. She smiled softly to herself, thinking, M_aybe something HAS changed. Maybe all good things begin with a kiss on your hand._

But when she turned back to those in the hall, she had to focus on Jane's encouraging smile, because whenever she met Darcy's eyes, filled with hurt and heartbreak, not matching his warm smile, she could not deny that although something had shifted in her stomach whenever she had talked to Fitzwilliam, every time she looked and Mr. Darcy, her stomach dropped and she could never catch her breath.

* * *

><p>The walk to Meryton seemed to take ten times as long as usual. Typically, the entire way, Elizabeth had to endure Lydia's constant chatter, Kitty's giggles and gossip, and Mary complaining as Elizabeth and Jane exchanged exasperated looks and plotted how to lose their sisters in the ribbon shop, if only for a moments peace. Now, though, Elizabeth longed for the senseless gossiping and complaining, because the silence was deafening.<p>

Jane and Mr. Bingley walked ahead, talking softly to themselves. Elizabeth lingered behind with Mr. Darcy, through a heavy silence that was filled with every thought and every feeling and every single thing she had wanted to say to Mr. Darcy since the moment she had met him.

Finally, when she could stand it no longer, Elizabeth said, "I am sorry your sister could not join us today, Mr. Darcy,"

"Yes, I wished she could have accompanied us, too. I would like for her to meet you and your sisters. Unfortunately, Georgiana was tired from traveling yesterday."

"The good news is that there's a quick remedy for exhaustion," Elizabeth said with a smile.

Darcy smiled, but he looked uneasy.

"Have you been to Meryton since you arrived, Mr. Darcy?"

"Only for the assembly," Mr. Darcy said with a smile.

Elizabeth acutely felt the tightening of her heart as he said this, but ignored it.

"And your hunt, yesterday?"

"Ruined by the rain," Darcy said. "I did enjoy a nice horse ride, though, later in the evening when it had cleared up."

"You have a very beautiful horse, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said, cheeks pink at the memory of their last encounter, when she met his horse while up in a tree.

"Do you ride, Miss Elizabeth?" He asked.

Elizabeth took a deep breath, preventing herself from asking him to say her name again. It sent shivers down her spine. "Not as often as I would like, sir. My father usually has a greater need for our horses than my pleasure."

Darcy laughed. "I'm sorry, madam, but I cannot picture you on a horse,"

Elizabeth chuckled. "Be sure, I am a fearsome thing to behold. My mother has tried to persuade my father many times over the years to prevent me from riding. She is quite positive I am going to break my neck and kill myself. I am too reckless for my own good,"

"Any recklessness at all is bad for oneself, is it not?" Mr. Darcy said.

"Mr. Darcy, I did not know you enjoyed teasing people so much," Elizabeth said brightly, despite herself.

"Well, Miss Elizabeth, you know me hardly at all then," he said.

"That is true," Elizabeth said, and then, regardless of her better judgement, added, "It is sorry that we did not dance at the assembly, for then I should know more of you."

Darcy looked surprised, but then smiled at her sadly. "I regret not dancing with you that night very much," Mr. Darcy said. "But what was I to do with Richard hogging you all night long?"

Elizabeth laughed a sad laugh. "Yes, what was to be done about that?"

"I suppose nothing, but I am glad you too got along so well together. Richard is very fond of you."

"And I am fond of him," Elizabeth said, hating how they tasted coming out of her mouth. Like a lie.

Darcy took a shallow breath, unable to fill his lungs fully. "I don't suppose, then, you would have a dance to spare at the ball?"

"The ball?" Elizabeth asked, surprised.

"Oh, yes, you wouldn't have received the invitation yet. Charles only just sent them out this morning."

"There is going to be a ball at Netherfield?" Elizabeth asked.

"Yes, in a month, I think. So...save me a dance?"

"Have your pick of them, my card is empty!" Elizabeth teased.

"The dinner set?" Darcy asked. "Or would you want to save that for Richard?"

"As long as you find us a good seat to eat at, sir," Elizabeth said. "I'm yours."

"Splendid."

The rest of the walk didn't seem quite so unbearable, but left Elizabeth feeling guilty. She had unintentionally lied to Lord Fitzwilliam...she did not miss his company at all.

* * *

><p>They spent their time in Meryton very easily, the gentleman were good sports and helped the girls pick out ribbons, the ladies waited patiently as the gentleman stopped by several offices to attend to business. After a few hours, Charles boyishly complained about being hungry, and after being gently teased by both Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, he convinced Jane to come with him to scout out a place for tea.<p>

Knowing full well that they wanted to be alone, and that Jane knew several perfectly good tea shops, Elizabeth and Darcy let them go without complaint.

"I truly have had a wonderful time today, Mr. Darcy,"

"As have I," Darcy said, as they waited on a corner, chatting amiably in the street. "Although I was disappointed Richard could not join us,"

"Yes," Elizabeth said. "As was I."

Darcy smiled. "He really cares about you, you know."

Elizabeth looked down at her hands. "He seems to have a big heart,"

"I mean to ask if you care..." Darcy trailed off when he saw Elizabeth's hands fly to cover her mouth, and all the color drain from her face.

"We have to get out of here," she said urgently, grasping Mr. Darcy's hand.

"Is everything all right, Miss Elizabeth?" he asked.

"No...I mean, yes, I just...I have to get, we have to leave, to get inside, to get out of here," Elizabeth said, unable to find her voice. Her heart was fluttering a million miles a minute, and she thought she was going to faint. She gripped Mr. Darcy's hand, and was grateful when he grasped it back.

"What is it?" Mr. Darcy said, pulling her closer to him and beginning to move them both to a nearby clothing shop, when a rasping voice called out, "Darcy!" Darcy looked apologetically to Elizabeth, who took a deep breath, and nodded.

They both turned, to be met by a small brunette, who had kind, unassuming eyes, and a wide smile.

"Valerie?" Darcy said, tone shocked. "I haven't seen you in the longest time!"

"I know!" She said, disregarding propriety and embracing him, awkwardly throwing her arms around him. His form remained limp, embracing her with one arm, but refusing to drop Elizabeth's hand. Valerie looked at their intertwined fingers and smiled slightly, grinning at Darcy.

"We have so much to catch up on! My husband..." she trailed off, as her husband appeared beside her, as if out of thin air.

"Darling, I..." Whatever he was going to say was never found out, for he trailed off as his eyes locked on Elizabeth and the color drained from his face and his mouth went slack.

"Elizabeth?" He asked, his voice breaking.

Darcy's hand tightened on Elizabeth's, and Elizabeth was grasping onto him for dear life. Her mouth had formed a thin line, and she felt she was going to throw up as she breathlessly said, "Hello, Mr. Powell."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I will update soon! Please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

Elizabeth could feel Darcy's hand tighten around hers, even though she was sure he had no idea who Jonathan was. All that he meant to her. She was sure Darcy was aware of nothing but her pain, and she was so grateful to him that she could not express it in words. But when she turned to him, and saw the color draining from his face, and the careful way he looked at Valerie, she suspected that maybe she was not the only one gripping the other's hand for their own sake.

She watched as Jonathan's eyes travelled to their hands, and back up to her face, his eyes filling with pain. She was filled with an incredible surge of anger as she saw his vulnerability, as she looked into his eyes and saw her own expression mirrored back in his, and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he felt the same way about her he had two years ago. She knew that he still woke up in the morning thinking about her, and that he dreamt about various ways they could be together.

She could see in his eyes that he missed her, not in a passing way, not every once and a while, but every minute of every day.

She knew because she still woke up in the morning thinking about him, she still dreamt about the various ways they could be together, and she missed him, not in a passing way, not every once and a while, but every minute of every day, like a dull ache that would never leave her.

And in that instant, she knew why he was back, and she hated him for it.

She wanted to hurt him a million times as badly as he had hurt her.

She wanted to destroy him.

"Jonathan?" Valerie said, confusion lighting her eyes. "Who is this?"

"Oh...forgive me," he said, placing his hand on the small of her back. Elizabeth thought her heart would break, seeing him embrace someone else so tenderly. "Darling, this is Miss Elizabeth Bennet. I was very close with her family while I stayed at Netherfield."

"You stayed at Netherfield?" Mr. Darcy inquired.

"Yes," Jonathan said, looking at Mr. Darcy defiantly. "I inherited it from my grandfather. I decided to sell it, but before I made that decision, I spent a summer here in Hertforshire."

"And now you're back," Elizabeth said breathlessly, brokenly.

She could feel Darcy's eyes shift to her, and she could feel his concern and the tenderness of his gaze without looking at him.

"Jonathan is _always _talking about how much he misses Hertforshire," Valerie put in. "And the country is _so_ gorgeous."

Elizabeth made a terrible attempt to smile, the corners of her mouth lifting pathetically as she exhaled.

"We...well, we wanted to raise our children here."

Darcy saw all the color that had returned to Elizabeth's face vanish.

"So we bought an estate about a mile from Netherfield!" Valerie exclaimed excitedly.

"How wonderful," Elizabeth said, emotionless. "You two must be very happy."

Valerie nodded, but Jonathan looked pained, and his eyes drifted to Darcy's and Elizabeth's locked hands.

"So...how long have you two been together?" Valerie said. Color flooded back into Elizabeth's face in splotchy reds.

"Elizabeth and I are only close friends," Darcy said, gently extracting his hand from hers and placing it on the small of her back. Elizabeth immediately felt reassured.

"Oh," Valerie said, looking crestfallen.

"How do you two know each other?" Elizabeth inquired.

Valerie smiled widely. "We were great friends growing up," she said. "My mother was the Dutchess of Cambridge, but when her husband died, she remarried a poor steward who worked for Darcy's family. Heaven knows why," She said, rolling her eyes. "I suppose people will do anything when they fall in love, even stop thinking rationally. Darcy was close with my stepbrother, Mr. George Wickham. He's going to be staying with us, Darcy, if you want to come visit," she said.

Darcy's jaw tightened. "I'll have to pay a visit once you all get settled," he said.

"Settled? We finished moving today! George's coming tomorrow,"

Darcy nodded curtly.

"Elizabeth! Mr. Darcy!" Jane called, running up to them, with Charles laughing and running behind her. "We finally found a place for tea, you have to..." she trailed off when her eyes landed on Jonathan.

"Oh, dear," she said, all the gentleness leaving her voice. "I never thought we'd see _you _again, Mr. Powell. What brings you back to Hertfordshire?" _  
><em>

Jonathan smiled, and said, "I missed the beauty of the country,"

Darcy pretended not to notice Elizabeth's faint blush, or Jane's glower.

"He wouldn't stop talking about how much he missed Hertfordshire," Valerie put in, not picking up on Jane's ire, or not knowing her well enough to recognize it. "So I finally relent to come out here, and before I know it, we're moving here. A mile away from Netherfield!"

"How convenient," Jane said coldly. "You must be Mrs. Powell. Please excuse my manners. I'm Miss Jane Bennet, and this is my friend-"

"Mr. Bingley!" Valerie interrupted smiling at him. "Charles, it's been too long! How is dear Caroline?"

"She'd be better after a visit with you, I'm sure," Charles said politely.

"I don't know if Mr. Powell has told you," Jane said. "But we became very close friends when he stayed at Netherfield two summers ago. Our mama would be dying to see you, Jonathan,"

Jonathan blanched. "I'm sure she would. We should have you all over for dinner sometime."

"Or, better yet, are you all on your way to tea? Come have tea with us! I'm sure a bunch of old friends could use some catching up."

"I'm not sure that's the best idea," Jane said, glaring point blank at Jonathan. "We better be getting home before everyone starts to worry. It was great meeting you. She smiled at Mrs. Powell, and stormed away, leaving Valerie looking bewildered and Jonathan as though he had just been slapped.

"It was great seeing you, Valerie," Charles said. "But Jane is right, we really must be going."

"Well, I'm sure we will have supper sometime," Valerie said. "Goodbye!"

Elizabeth uttered out a painful farewell, and Darcy waved. Elizabeth suspected he could not loosen his jaw enough to speak. In fact, they had been walking towards Longbourn for several minutes before his face relaxed.

He looked over to apologize to Elizabeth, and was shocked to find tears coming down her face.

"My dear Miss Elizabeth," he said, reaching out to her, "You're crying."

"I know," she said, hastily wiping the tears away. "And you're so angry you couldn't speak."

"I know." Darcy said. He ushered her under a weeping willow, and they sat on the soft ground, both of them leaning on the trunk to support themselves.

"If you tell me your secret, I'll tell you mine," Darcy said, leaning over and gently brushing his thumb across both of Elizabeth's cheeks, softly wiping away the tears.

Elizabeth took a deep breath, and began, "Mr. Powell moved into Netherfield for a summer, before he sold it, to see if he liked it well enough to keep it. He was funny and kind and we spent the entire summer together. I fell in love with him," she admitted.

"And I know he was in love with me. He told me he wished to marry me, but he couldn't, because he had an amount of debt so large selling Netherfield combined with what he had inherited was not enough to cover it. My small dowry would not help at all, so he married Valerie, who had an outrageous dowry, and left me devastated. And now he's back, and I know why...and I can't stand it."

"Valerie inherited all of her mother's money, which was an exorbitant amount," Darcy said. "I hate Mr. Powell for causing you all of this pain."

"He wants me to be his mistress," Elizabeth said in a voice that was impossibly small. "He's thought it over in his mind, and he's come to that conclusion. He moved his pregnant wife to Hertfordshire for the sole purpose of seeing if I'm still unmarried, because he thinks I'm still in love with him, and that I would go to him, and be his mistress. I could see it in his eyes. The untainted...desire." Her voice broke, but it seemed she was all out of tears. "I hate him."

"I'll kill him," Mr. Darcy said in a voice of unrepressed rage. "Say the word, and I'll kill him, Elizabeth. He's a pig...a monster."

"He's a _man_," Elizabeth said. "A man who is not in love with his wife. It's hardly uncommon, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said. "I expected it. For a long time, I even welcomed it, if it meant I got to be with him. How terrible, how _despicable _is that. I'm the monster."

"No," Darcy said, his voice impossible soft as he took both of Elizabeth's hands in his. "No, you were only in love."

"Not anymore," Elizabeth said, finally meeting Darcy's eyes. "I'm not in love with him anymore. I believe there's someone else out there for me."

"I know there is," Darcy said.

"Your turn," Elizabeth said, finally wearing a smile.

"Valerie's stepbrother, George Wickham?" Darcy said grimly. "After Valerie's mother died, Valerie got all of the inheritance, and left Wickham and his father nothing. Soon afterwards, my father died. My father was incredibly close with George, and his father, but looked to George as a second son, paying for all of his education, turning a blind eye to George's irreverent treatment of women and his disregard to his studies. My father naively believed George when he said that he wanted to become a clergyman, and when my father died, in his will, he left Wickham a position in the church, which Wickham denied. George came to me and demanded compensation for the living, so I readily gave him 3,000 pounds, which he gambled away within months. He came to me after he lost all of his money, and demanded more, which I denied him. Afterwards, he disappeared for several months, but he found my sister, Georgiana, and convinced her he was in love with her and persuaded her to elope with him. Fortunately, Georgiana told me before they ran away together, and I prevented the elopement. But, Georgiana is now afraid of herself, taciturn in public, and doesn't trust her own judgement anymore. My heart breaks for her, and I think if I had tea with Mr. Wickham, I would murder the gentleman."

"That _gentleman _hardly warrants the name," Elizabeth said, fists clenched. "I would most likely murder him, too. But probably with words. Or give him my deathly glare."

Darcy laughed, drawn out of his angry stupor.

"Jane sure gave Jonathan a deathly glare this afternoon," Darcy commented.

"I've never seen Jane more angry than my entire life," Elizabeth said.

"Poor Valerie," they said together. Darcy chuckled, and Elizabeth smiled softly before resting her head on Darcy's shoulder.

"Thank you, Mr. Darcy," she said softly.

"You know," Darcy said, resting his chin on top of her head. "Most of my friends call me Fitzwilliam."

"You want me to call you by your first name?" Elizabeth said dubiously.

"Elizabeth," Darcy said patiently. "Not even Charles knows what happened with Wickham. Only Richard. I consider you one of my closest friends, after today."

"Thank you, Fitzwilliam," she said softly. "It means a lot."

After they caught up with Jane and Charles, who were casually eating apples out of Longbourn's orchard and being not so subtle about the fact that they were waiting for them, Elizabeth felt another round of tears coming on.

She knew now that what she told Jane yesterday wasn't true. She had said she didn't think she could survive the destruction of another heartbreak, but she was wrong. She did not only survive it, but managed to walk all the way back to Netherfield, the word _friend _echoing in her ears until she found herself alone in her bedroom. Then, it was accompanied by the choking sounds of her sobs, filling up the small room.

She now knew that she could survive another heartbreak, but she couldn't survive without _him_. For in a single week, Mr. Darcy had made her feel happier, livelier, and lighter than she had in two years. In a single week, Mr. Darcy had managed to make her fall in love with him, while it had taken Jonathan an entire summer. It seemed impossible, but Elizabeth knew in her heart that she would never feel a love so strong as she had for Mr. Darcy.

And yet...he wanted to be friends.

She could live the rest of her life with her heart in pieces, if it meant she could be close to him. And, Elizabeth knew, if she were to marry Lord Fitzwilliam, she would be close with Darcy for her entire life.

If only Elizabeth knew that less than a mile away, Darcy was in his bedroom, tears steadily falling quietly down his cheeks. He cried for all Georgiana had lost, because today he finally understood what it was like to have your love taken away from you. He cried for Elizabeth's loss, because he finally understood what it was like to watch the person you love choose someone else over you. And he cried for his loss, because he knew Elizabeth would never be his. From the moment she said, "_I believe there's someone else out there for me."_ Darcy knew she was gone, because he knew she believed Richard was the _someone else_. She was in love with Richard, and Darcy made his decision.

Not because of his own happiness, which he had been denying ever since they arrived in Hertfordshire.

Not because of Richard, whose happiness mattered more to him than his own.

Because of Elizabeth, because Darcy felt her pain and her sadness, and never wanted her heart to break again. Because of Elizabeth, because he loved her more than life itself.

He made his decision to love her from a distance, watching as she would grow old with Richard. He would take joy in their happiness, and hopefully overtime, the joy would begin to numb the pain.

He made the decision to let her go, because he would do anything to make her happy.

If only Darcy could see that he could love Elizabeth more than Richard ever could.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Look at me, updating twice in one day! Because I'm usually not so prompt, and because you're sooo happy for the double update, you should totally review, because not only will that make me HAPPY and make me want to UPDATE MORE but because it will make the story BETTER and then you will be HAPPY TOO! **

**Thanks everyone who is reading and following and favoriting this story, because it honestly means the world to me. Y'all are amazing, and this story is for you. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: **

**All right, everybody! So I just sat down and planned out pretty much the rest of this story...**

**I'm so freaking excited because it's going to be sooo good. **

**But this is a warning...if you aren't a fan of angst or drama, you might want to stop reading now and close the window before you get too attached to the characters. No hard feelings, I promise. **

**I'll guarantee everyone gets a good ending (well, almost everyone), and a HEA for our two favorite characters, but they're going to get there with a few bumps and bruises. **

**So...now I'm going to end this suuuuuuper long author's note (sorry if you hate them; I honestly hate reading them but I can't help myself when I start writing) by promising that I will try to update as often as possible (because really, if my fingers were fast enough and my thoughts fluent enough, I would have written all of this delicious drama by now and given it to everyone, who, like me, wants to eat it up like a piping hot plate of chocolate chip cookies). **

**xx -M**

* * *

><p>"Fitzwilliam?" Georgiana asked tentatively from the door.<p>

Darcy wanted to feel bad for hiding in his room since her arrival, but he didn't.

He wanted to be okay with the fact that Elizabeth was going to live happily ever after with Richard, but he would never be.

He wanted to go back to Derbyshire and forget Hertfordshire even existed, along with all the people who lived here, but obviously some things will never be possible.

Obviously nothing would ever be okay again.

And obviously, he didn't feel bad enough, because he didn't leave his room.

"Fitzwilliam, come on," Georgiana said, knocking this time. "I've been here three days, and I've only barely seen you. You _did_ ask me to come out here."

Darcy rubbed his stubbly face in his hands, sighing before getting up from his bed, and swinging the door wide open, where tiny, beloved Georgiana was standing there, waiting for him and looking cross.

She tried not to make a face when the stench from his body odor drifted into her nostrils, but she wasn't really successful, her face giving off the impression that she had to sneeze.

"Have you really not gotten out of bed in three days?" Georgiana asked, raising her eyebrows. "Not even to bathe?"

"I'm sick," said Darcy shortly.

"Sick with The Irritable Fever," Georgiana said.

"My head is killing me," Darcy said in a monotone, emotionless voice that conveyed his head was perfectly fine.

"You might want to practice your lies in the mirror," Georgiana said. "Maybe then they'll sound more convincing."

Darcy rolled his eyes.

"What happened down here?" Georgiana asked softly. "What could affect you so badly that you'd be willing to hide in your bedroom for three days?"

"Too much Caroline Bingley," Darcy said. "She's made me ill. Infected me with her snobbiness."

"Ha!" said Georgiana glaring at him. "If you think you've had too much of Caroline Bingley while you've been at dances and socializing with your new friends, think about me, being with Caroline every minute of the day and night, because _my dear brother _could not be troubled to get over his fake illness."

"I'm surprised you haven't faked a disease to get out of here," Darcy said, turning back to his bedroom and landing facedown on the bed.

"Richard is going to be home for dinner!" Georgiana said. "And if you're not out of bed by then, I'll tell him it was you who put crickets in his pillow all those summers ago!"

"You wouldn't," Darcy said, sitting up hastily in bed.

"I would! And take a bath, for goodness' sake! Mr. Bingley's invited the Bennets, and I can smell you from here!"

* * *

><p>Elizabeth was humming to herself as she was reading a book, much to the annoyance of Jane. Jane was standing in the doorway of the library, watching Elizabeth twirl a lock of hair around her finger absentmindedly and her lips pucker into a whistle. The cheeriness of the tune was too much for Jane.<p>

"Lizzy, come _on," _Jane said, rushing to sit next to her sister.

"Jane?" Elizabeth said, eyebrows coming together like personal question marks.

"Stop acting like everything is fine, because it isn't!"

"Everything _is _fine, Jane," Elizabeth said.

Jane laughed humorlessly. "Everything is not even in the same _vicinity _as fine, Lizzy. Mr. Powell is _here_ in _Hertfordshire_ with his _pregnant wife. _He waltzes in here and says he misses the "beauty of the country" and his wife's standing there oblivious-"

"Jane, how was she supposed to know he used to call me that?"

"She may not have known, but _he_ did!" Jane said, outraged. "_He _knew, and you knew, and I knew! And we all know why he came back!" Jane's hands were shaking.

"Jane, please," Elizabeth said quietly. "It's humiliating enough without talking about it."

"He's the one who should be humiliated, Lizzy!"

"Really? Because I don't think so! He wasn't the one foolish enough to think that marrying for love is an option!"

Jane's mouth fell open. "Marrying for love _is _an option, Lizzy. You've always said you wouldn't marry without it."

Elizabeth's face hardened. "Maybe it's time for me to be more practical."

"_Practical?!" _Jane exclaimed.

"I need to stop pretending that..."

"Then _stop pretending!_" Jane interrupted. "Stop carrying on like everything's fine, stop twirling your hair for my benefit while you stare at the same page for almost an hour!"

"I was not twirling my hair _for your benefit!" _

"In what universe does Elizabeth Bennet not believe in marrying for love?"

"In _this _universe!"

"I _refuse _to accept that!"

"It's not a truth I need you to accept, Jane!"

"I am not going to stand by and watch you settle for a marriage to a man you have no feelings for! I am not going to watch as you deny your true feelings for your own convenience! You can act like everything is fine, you can act like you are in love, and you will probably convince everyone else, but I am your sister and I love you more than anyone else, I know you better than anyone else, and you can fool yourself into thinking whatever you want, but you cannot fool me!"

"I am not the fool here, Jane!"

"I am not the one lying to myself!"

"Are you saying I don't care about Lord Fitzwilliam?"

"I didn't say anything about Lord Fitzwilliam, Elizabeth. Are you excited to see him tonight?" Jane asked coldly.

Elizabeth glared at her sister. "Of course I am!"

"Surely though, not excited as you are to see Mr. Darcy,"

"I am not talking to you about this, Jane," Elizabeth said, walking briskly out of the room.

Jane sighed and fell back into her chair. "That's the problem, Lizzy."

* * *

><p>Elizabeth ran up to the attic, where she knew no one would bother her. There was a wardrobe that had forever been in a dark corner. It had been her favorite childhood hiding place, because she could curl up and close herself inside of it, and in the darkness, forget the rest of the world even existed.<p>

After Jonathan left, she would sit for hours in the wardrobe...not moving, not thinking, hardly daring to breathe.

Now, she tried to make herself as small as possible, folding her legs into herself, tucking her arms as close as she could to her body, curling up into the tiniest ball, almost crushing herself with her own body.

She slowly brought her hand to her lips, trying to remember how to smile. She smiled softly against her hand, but it was only a moment before it fell.

She was by herself, after all. It was no use putting on a facade for her own benefit, here in the dark.

Her hand left her mouth, and she brushed her cheek with her fingertips, remembering all of Jonathan's stolen kisses against her blushing flesh, and all of the feelings she had repressed washed over her... the exhilarating feeling of sneaking into the apple orchard, not daring to breathe for fear that it would be too loud and they would be discovered as Jonathan's mouth left a trail of fire over her skin, his lips feather soft as they moved over her body like the wind...the heart hammering, stomach fluttering, dimple bearing elation that overwhelmed her as Jonathan told her how beautiful she was, how smart, how funny, how much he loved her, how much he needed her, how she brought him to his knees, how he would never love another living, breathing soul as much as he loved her...the peacefulness that came over her at night, as she lay in bed awake, thinking of nothing but him, knowing that she was going to be happy for the rest of her life, fully believing that love could conquer all.

Her fingertips lightly brushed her closed eyelids, and she remembered how they met in the orchard one last time.

She remembered how he kissed her eyelids, kissed the tears as they fell down her cheeks, and promised that he would never forget her, that he would find a way for them to be together, that he would always love her.

She remembered how he told her one last time that he would never love another living soul as much as he loved her, and then she remembered him dropping her hands, and she felt him walk away.

It had seemed like the tears would never stop, but Elizabeth stayed in the orchard for the rest of the day, sure he would come back and tell her that he didn't care about the money, that they would find a way to get through it.

It was Jane who found her at nightfall. It was into Jane's arms that Elizabeth had collapsed, it was Jane who she told, it was Jane who held her, but by then the tears had all fallen and dried on her cheeks, and Elizabeth had promised herself that she would never cry over Jonathan again.

Jane was wrong. Elizabeth did not deny her feelings, she simply refused to acknowledge them. She was not going to act on her emotions anymore.

Her fingers brushed her cheek once more, and she remembered Darcy's gentle thumbs wiping away her tears, and her heart hurt.

She didn't know it was possible to feel so many conflicting emotions at once.

She wasn't sure of anything, and she was so scared of herself and her emotions.

She was shaking, she was so unsure. So instead of thinking, instead of feeling, she just sat in the wardrobe, covered by the darkness, not moving...hardly daring to breathe.

* * *

><p>Georgiana scowled as her brother slumped down to the sitting room, hair dripping from a shower.<p>

"You smell much better," she noted as he came and sat next to her.

"Where's Miss Caroline?" Darcy asked.

"Shopping with the Hursts," Georgiana said. "Mr. Bingley is out visiting one of the tenants. So tell me."

"Excuse me?"

"Tell me why you've been hiding in your room all week!"

"It's...complicated."

"No, complicated is the fact that Mr. Bingley invited George Wickham over for dinner," Georgiana said, sighing.

"He did WHAT?" Darcy said, standing up in an flash and pacing the floor like an angry tiger.

"Will, don't do that," Georgiana said exasperatedly. "Don't overreact..."

"Don't _overreact?" _Darcy said, eyes slits. "Georgiana, that man is a monster, and he almost..."

"Mr. Bingley doesn't know what happened, Will," Georgiana said patiently. "He didn't invite George to hurt me. In a way, I think it's better if I face him now. If I make it seem like he didn't hurt me. That way we can all move on."

"Darling, I want to _kill him," _Darcy said through gritted teeth. "I don't think I can make it through a dinner without launching myself over the table and ripping his throat out with my teeth."

"Mr. Powell will be here, too," Georgiana said, watching as Darcy's face grew even more red. "Mr. Bingley told me about Mr. Powell and Miss Elizabeth."

"How on earth..."

"Miss Bennet told him, apparently."

"So now everyone knows about Elizabeth's business," Darcy said, scowling.

"_Elizabeth?" _said Georgiana with surprise. "Is she the reason..."

"Richard cares for _M__iss_ Elizabeth," said Darcy hastily. "He has serious intentions towards her. I think he is planning on marrying her."

"Richard?" Georgiana said, astounded. "Richard is serious about marrying someone?"

Darcy watched as the color went out of Georgiana's eyes. "Darling, don't be upset," Darcy said, going to her. "You'll find happiness one day, too."

Georgiana nodded and managed a small smile. "So how do _you _feel about Elizabeth?"

"We are good friends," Darcy said.

"_Complicated friends?" _Georgina asked, smirking.

Darcy smiled, but said nothing.

"Don't be mad at Mr. Bingley," Georgiana said. "He only shared what Miss Bennet told him about Mr. Powell and Miss Elizabeth with me. The others have no idea."

"Why did he tell you?" Darcy asked.

"He said that he had a feeling she would be part of the family one day, and that he didn't want you to have to break the trust of Miss Elizabeth."

"Didn't he break the trust of Miss Bennet, though?"

"Well...yes, I suppose," Georgiana said. "But he seemed to think it was worth it, if it would make things easier for you."

"Charles is a good friend."

"Are you going to tell Richard?"

"I think Elizabeth should," Darcy said. "It's her choice to share it, after all."

"Yes, I suppose," Georgiana said.

* * *

><p>Jane couldn't help but glare at Elizabeth as they got ready for dinner at Netherfield. The invitation had been extended only to the two eldest Miss Bennets, with the promise that there would be a dinner party at Longbourn in the near future. Elizabeth and Jane dressed in their room in silence.<p>

"Do you want me to do your hair?" Elizabeth asked with lifeless eyes.

"I'll manage, thank you," Jane said.

Hill ended up helping both of the young ladies with their hairstyles, and they left home without another word to one another.

When they arrived at Netherfield, they were greeted warmly, but it was obvious that something was wrong between the two sisters.

Caroline, always the gracious host, informed them they were waiting on Richard, and that dinner would be delayed. They were ushered into the sitting room, and Elizabeth felt as though the wind had been knocked out of her.

Mr. Powell was sitting next to his wife, talking animatedly with a gentleman Elizabeth was not familiar with, and when he met eyes with Elizabeth, he looked at her as if they were planning to sneak into the orchard again.

Elizabeth felt dirty when Valerie smiled broadly at her.

Jane's fingers tingled to grab ahold of Elizabeth's, but they remained at her side as she went over to talk to Miss Caroline.

"Miss Elizabeth!" said a deep voice behind her. She turned to find Mr. Darcy smiling at her, and all of the tension inside her melted at once. A smile easily brightened her face, and she felt as if the weight on her heart had been lifted.

"I have someone I want you to meet," Darcy said, gesturing to a small blonde clutching his arm. Elizabeth felt as if she had just been trampled by a million horses...was Darcy betrothed?

"This is my sister Georgiana."

Elizabeth barely caught her breath as she curtsied.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Darcy," Elizabeth said. "I have heard wonderful things about you."

"Yes," Georgiana said, eyes wandering to the gentleman in the corner, and then back to Elizabeth. "I was excited to meet you as well."

Her eyes darted to the gentleman again. "Excuse me," she said, walking out of the room.

Elizabeth turned to Mr. Darcy. "Pray, who is that man in the corner talking to Mr. Powell?"

Darcy turned a deep shade of red. "That is the infamous Mr. Wickham."

Elizabeth's jaw dropped. "What on earth is he doing here?" she asked, outraged. "Especially considering Miss Darcy..."

"Charles does not know what happened between Wickham and Georgiana. Valerie wanted to dine with us, and he invited all three of them."

"Yes, but even a monster like Wickham should have the decency not to show his face here, knowing alone that _you _were here, let alone Miss Darcy."

Darcy was overcome with the desire to kiss her, but Jane and Charles approached them.

"Miss Bennet, there is someone I would love to introduce you to," Darcy said, leading Jane to Georgiana sitting alone on the opposite side of the room.

Mr. Bingley pulled Elizabeth aside. "Miss Elizabeth, Miss Bennet told me what happened between you and Mr. Powell," he said apologetically. "Forgive me for inviting him tonight, but it when Caroline knew Valerie was staying in Hertfordshire, it really could not be avoided..."

"Mr. Bingley, you have nothing to apologize for," Elizabeth said. "It happened a long time ago, and I have moved on."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Mr. Powell said softly behind them, placing his hand on the small of Elizabeth's back. "For I have never moved on, Lizzy, I _couldn't _move on."

"Mr. Powell!" exclaimed Mr. Bingley, outraged. "You have no right to talk to Miss Elizabeth, you have no right to touch Miss Elizabeth, and you have no right to _look_ at Miss Elizabeth. Be careful, and watch yourself, or I will have no choice to throw you out of my house!"

"Is there a problem here?" Darcy asked, walking over. Seeing Mr. Powell's hand on Elizabeth's back, he flushed and growled, "Get your hands off of her."

"I see I am not the only one influenced by Miss Elizabeth's charms," Mr. Powell said smoothly, eyeing Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley and causing them both to flush a bright red. "Tell me, Lizzy, did you tell them _all _about us?"

"Mr. Powell, please," Elizabeth pleaded.

"No, my dear, don't you want your lovers to know _everything _that happened between us?" Elizabeth eyed Mrs. Powell, who was laughing with Caroline on the other side of the room, completely oblivious to the fact that her husband had pinned Elizabeth to his side. Jane was looking over, concerned, but kept everyone else distracted from the spectacle. Darcy looked like he was about to attack Mr. Powell, and Charles looked livid.

"Of course, you too probably already know how lovely Lizzy is," Mr Powell said, smelling Elizabeth's hair and drawing patterns on her hip with his long fingers. Elizabeth tried to break away, but his grip was iron tight. "You probably know how soft her skin is, how sensitive, how _responsive_."

"Let her go," Darcy said, fists clenched. "You sick bastard, let her go."

"Don't you just love the sounds she makes?" Mr. Powell said, stepping closer to Mr. Darcy. "So _passionate_..."

"Why are you doing this?" Elizabeth asked miserably. "Have you come here only to humiliate me?"

"You know why I'm here, my dear," Mr. Powell said.

"That's enough," Mr. Bingley said, shoving Mr. Powell off of Elizabeth. "Get out of my house."

"Do you really want to do that, Mr. Bingley?" Mr. Powell said, smiling. "Explain to my wife and your sister why you are throwing us out of your lovely home? Humiliate _her? _Ruin dear Lizzy's reputation?"

Mr. Bingley's nostrils flared, and the silence was deafening.

"I didn't think so," Mr. Powell said, returning to his wife.

"Excuse me," Elizabeth said, rushing out of the room and onto a small balcony, longing to fill her longs with air no one else had breathed.

Darcy watched as Mr. Bingley went to Jane and had a hushed conversation. Jane looked at the balcony and said something, and Charles shook his head, and embraced her. Jane nodded, and went back to her conversation with Georgiana. Charles walked out of the room, and Darcy strongly suspected that he had returned to his own bedroom to break something. It was a horrible habit of Charles' to break something when he felt he had no control.

Darcy looked around the room, and when everyone else was preoccupied, he slipped outside onto the balcony.

"Are you okay?" he asked Elizabeth in a low voice. She was leaning against the railing, looking out into the darkness. She didn't look at him when she said, "What do you think?"

Darcy walked over and stood beside her. "I think I hate Mr. Powell almost as much as I hate his brother-in-law. Maybe more."

Elizabeth managed a small smile and hung her head. "He wasn't like that when I knew him...before. He wasn't cruel. He used to be the one person in the world I thought was truly a good person."

"You don't think you're a good person?"

"I am far too selfish to be good, Mr. Darcy,"

"What about Mr. Powell strikes you as unselfish, Miss Elizabeth?"

"I believed him when he told me he was leaving me for my own good," Elizabeth said. "I believed him when he said he wanted more for me than a life in poverty."

"What do you think of me, Miss Elizabeth?" Mr. Darcy asked. "Am I a good person?"

"I no longer trust my own judgement, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said. "But if I did, I would say yes."

There was a long silence.

"So...did you and Mr. Powell, uh..." Darcy trailed off, clearing his throat.

Elizabeth smiled despite herself. "You don't have to worry, Mr. Darcy. My innocence is still intact."

"Of course it is, I just...he made it seem like..."

"Fitzwilliam, please," Elizabeth said. "You don't have to explain."

"Okay."

"Okay."

There was another long silence, but this time, it was comforting.

"I still want to kill him," Darcy said.

"I know," Elizabeth said.

Then, ever so slowly, she rested her head on Darcy's shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered.

Darcy's arm snaked around her waist painfully cautious. Encouraged when she leaned into his touch, he tucked her head under his chin.

"Am I interrupting something?" Mr. Bingley asked from the door way, startling them apart.

"Of course not," Darcy said, and his tone sliced Elizabeth's heart.

"So what did you break?" Darcy asked, a smile creeping onto his face.

"I threw Caroline's favorite vase out of a window on the third floor," Mr. Bingley said, chuckling. "Valerie gave it to us several years ago, from Bath."

"Charles breaks things when he's mad," Darcy said to Elizabeth, and then they were all laughing hysterically.

Elizabeth was gripping her sides as she giggled, gasping for breath, Darcy was crying as he laughed a gravelly chuckle, Bingley was chuckling uncontrollably as he leaned against the wall for balance.

They were all gasping for breath and wiping their eyes when a knock pierced the air.

Elizabeth and Darcy inhaled sharply and moved away from each other, each conscious of how close they were.

"No big welcome back?" Richard asked Elizabeth.

"Welcome back," Elizabeth said, knowing that everything was about to get a million times more complicated.

_Complicated and Confused_. Elizabeth thought to herself. _Good alliteration. I should write a novel about my horrible love life. _


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Sorry it has taken me so long to update, real life has hit me hard these past few months. These next few chapters will be a series of diary entries from Elizabeth's perspective, leading up to the Netherfield Ball (which is going to be so very exciting you all will explode with angst and maybe want to kill me). REMEMBER THERE IS GOING TO BE A HAPPILY EVER AFTER FOR ALL OF THE CHARACTERS (except one or two...) **

**Also, to address the Regency/Modern issue...I'll spare you the rant I wrote in my first draft and just say that I am not Jane Austen, I am not from Jane Austen's world, and I have done very little research, which you all have a right to be irritated about, because that's me being lazy. **

**HOWEVER, if you want me to heavily research and revise everything I have written, it's going to take a ridiculous amount of time, and because I already update sporadically, I'm never going to get around to finishing this story. **

Dear Diary,

I look in the mirror and don't recognize myself.

I sit in the attic for hours, counting my breaths and listening to the wind wrestle with the leaves.

I don't go on walks anymore.

I feel like I did after Jonathan left, only this is worse, this is infinitely worse. For now I know that I barely loved Jonathan at all, for when I compare the love I felt for him to the love I feel for _him, _it seems hardly relevant.

The only time I feel like I am breathing is when I am with him. When he smiles at me, it is like my heart has come back to life, and is finally pumping blood again through my veins, and I can't feel my fingertips.

When he locks eyes on me, I begin to shake and my knees go weak and I feel as if he would just touch me, just whisper my name once more against my skin, I would explode.

He has ruined me, for I will never be his.

He doesn't smile at me anymore.

He doesn't meet my eyes across the room like he used to.

He doesn't touch me, hasn't touched me.

He refuses to speak my name, even in conversation.

It all started the night Richard came back from London. He slowly began to pull away from me, and now I fear I have lost him forever.

Oh, what a fool I was to think that he could ever love me.

Oh, what I fool I was to trust my heart again.

On the night Richard came back, everything changed.

But of course, everything had already changed, hadn't it? Fitzwilliam had said that I was his friend, and I withstood yet another heartbreak.

It seems fitting that after all this time, again I write to you about the men in my life, and again Jonathan seems to be at the center of it all. How oddly poetic that I return to paper and pen once more because I feel I cannot share my thoughts with Jane, and I cannot make sense of the thoughts myself.

It was the first day I had woken up without thinking about him. The first day I had not woken up and thought of Jonathan immediately.

At the beginning, I would rise out of unconsciousness, and still half asleep, catch his scent in the air or hear a laugh reminiscent of his, and think for a terribly glorious moment that we were at his estate in London, and I was Mrs. Powell.

After a while though, when my smiles started to come back, along with my appetite, I would wake and feel an empty space in my self-a place that he used to fill, first with overwhelming joy, and then with crushing depression.

These were the moments that I missed him the most, the days that I would wonder around in the orchard for hours, the days that I would lock myself in the wardrobe, not knowing whether it was day or night. These were the days that Jane would follow me and read to me and never let me out of her sight, especially after the Incident.

These were the days when the smiles weren't worth it, that food didn't taste good; these were the days when I forgot what his voice sounded like and couldn't catch his scent on my clothes anymore. These were the days when I realized the only way we would ever be together was if he moved to Hertfordshire with his wife and I could be his mistress. These were the days when I welcomed the idea.

But overtime, I remembered what his laugh sounded like. I avoided the orchard, and eventually stopped thinking about it. I would let Jane follow me around, and eventually read to her, and begin to tease again. Eventually, my laughs came back, and I would wake up on those days not trying to find a ghost of him, not aching for him, and not trying to find a way to fill the emptiness inside me, but with curiosity. Even when I felt like myself again, I would wake up every morning thinking of him, and wondering how he was doing. Sometimes I would try to imagine Jonathan's life, and I would hope that he was happy, because even though I was more myself than I used to be, I was still his.

I still missed him with everything, but the memories didn't crush me anymore. But because I still loved him, I would imagine a beautiful life for him, and hope that he was happy with his wife, and that he didn't miss me at all.

I knew myself well enough that I didn't trust myself to stay away from him if he ever came back.

Eventually, though, my musings would become passive, and it would be a single thought during my daily routine instead of a drawn out fantasy over breakfast. Over time, instead of picturing his life, I would merely hope that he was healthy, or wonder if his wife was pregnant yet.

On the day I met Mr. Darcy, I woke up not thinking of him at all. I rose before dawn, and the brisk air smelled of summer and was taunting me, so I left a note for Jane and grabbed my book and walked to my favorite tree. I read for hours, and then when I had finished devouring Lord Byron, I took off running down the hill, only to run into Mr. Darcy.

Oh, but the night Richard came back, everything changed.

"Are you okay?" His gentle voice reached out to me like a warm blanket in the cool night air. I had a terrible sense of dejavu, and that feeling of betrayal settled over me again with a shadow of permanence. This time, though, I was certain the only person I was betraying was myself.

"You've been quiet all night," He was near me now, and I could feel his presence coming near me, pulling at me, pleading with me. He was close enough to reach out and touch me, but he didn't, and I didn't move, staying rigidly still, among the statues that had sat on this balcony for decades. My arms remained stiff, supporting me as I leaned against the railing, looking out on the beauty of Netherfield Park.

"Surely you must be cold," he tried once more. This time, the third time he reached out to me, his voice broke, and something inside me caved, an invisible barrier that held me to my old convictions, that lingering voice of Jane, claiming that marrying for love wasn't absurd.

My arms slowly relaxed, and I exhaled a breath that I had been holding all night long, all throughout dinner. Slowly the tension in my muscles released, and I turned around to face him, leaning against the balcony.

"Yes," I said, answering all of his questions.

His eyes softened and I couldn't quite read his expression. He lifted his hand to brush a stray hair from my cheek, but paused, and thought better of it. "I missed you,"

I looked away, not able to meet his eyes. "I missed you as well. You were gone for quite a while."

"Yes," He said, sighing. "And the distance was hard. But it was more difficult, missing you tonight. You were so close to me, and yet so far away."

"I am sorry," I said sincerely, finally looking at him again. "A lot has happened this past week..."

"With Darcy?" His voice was hurt, and accusing.

"No!" I said, spitting out the lie before my conscious tripped it up on my tongue. "No, that isn't it at all. It's...Mr. Powell. Do you remember the gentleman I told you about? The gentleman who caused me to question my judgement?"

"That is Mr. Powell?" He asked, brows furrowing.

I nodded, looking away again.

"Oh, Elizabeth," This time he did brush away the stray hair, and I forced myself to meet his eyes. "You should not have had to endure dinner with him."

"You used my Christian name," I pointed out, not knowing what else to say.

"Yes," His fingertips lingered on my cheek, and I wanted to feel something, anything. Even repulsion.

I felt indifferent.

He sighed again. "Sometimes I think I moved too quickly with you, forgetting propriety entirely."

"There seems to be a lot of that going around in Hertfordshire," I said, thinking of my earlier conversations with Fitzwilliam and Charles.

"You'll forgive me?" A smile creeped upon his face mischievously.

"How could I be mad at you?" I asked, desperately wanting to feel angry, to feel anything.

"The thing is, _Miss _Elizabeth," He paused, encircling a lock of my hair around his finger. "I want to move quickly with you. I have serious intentions towards you."

"I know," I said, wanting to talk about something else, but not knowing how to change the subject.

Richard's brows furrowed, but before he could say anything, a knock rang out in the silence.

"Fitzwilliam!" I called out, shocked by the look of pain on his face. "Is everything alright?"

"Quite, Miss Elizabeth," Darcy said, moving out of the doorway into the light. "I just came to tell you that a carriage has been prepared to take you back to Loungbourn."

"Thank you," I said. Darcy nodded curtly and returned to the sitting room. I turned back to Richard, who looked as if I had stabbed him. "_Fitzwilliam?"_ He asked, his voice a whisper.

"It was a-an accident," I stammered, slipping past him. "I thought something was wrong..."

"You call me Fitzwilliam," he said, confused.

"An easy mistake to make," I said, trying to smile.

"He was standing awfully close to you when I came to Netherfield tonight. Embracing you, actually. The two of you were laughing awfully hard."

"The _three _of us," I said through my teeth. "Honestly Fitzwilliam, Charles was the one who told the joke."

"So you call Mr. Bingley by his Christian name now, too,"

"Fitzwilliam..."

"And yet..." He said, painfully slowly. "You won't call me Richard. Why is that?"

"Fitzwilliam suits you better," I said, placing my hand on his cheek and running my other hand over his chest, desperately reaching, "It's classical, valiant. The name for a soldier like yourself. I think of you as a Fitzwilliam."

He seemed a little mollified. "And Darcy?"

"Mr. Darcy is formidable, but I think of him as Mr. Darcy, and of you as Fitzwilliam."

"You think I am valiant?"

"I think you are many brave things," I said, smiling, and hating myself. What was I reduced to now? I felt dirty. Like I was trading my smiles and my flirtations for the promise of security. For the illusion of love.

He smiled, and before I had time to get my bearings, he pulled me close to him. When Richard touched me, I didn't feel the rush of adrenaline like I did with Jonathan or the warmth I felt with Darcy. I felt resigned to it.

"When can I see you again?" His voice was a whisper and his face was flushed, and I wasn't surprised by his actions, and I wasn't revolted by his impropriety. Right from the beginning, I knew that Richard had never been one to follow the rules.

And really, I never had been either. For goodness' sake, for the majority of my life, I believed in the prevalence of love! Now it was time to be more practical.

So after I suggested that he come to Longbourn tomorrow, when he leaned in and kissed me, I didn't push him away. I didn't feel a rush, I didn't feel warmth, but for the first time all night, I felt _something._

I felt hate.

I hated Jonathan, because he destroyed everything I once believed in.

I hated Richard, for falling in love with me.

I hated myself, for letting Richard believe I was falling in love with him, too. I hated myself for becoming like my vapid mother and sisters, seeking men only for want of money, and never for love.

Although, in a way, I suppose I was seeking love also.

* * *

><p>"Miss Elizabeth!" His voice called out to me from the shadows. I pretended not to hear him, for all I wanted was to go home, to lie in bed and forget about all the pain, all the discomfort this night had caused me, but he would not allow me that simple luxury.<p>

"Miss Elizabeth!" I heard footsteps quickly approaching, and before I knew it, Fitzwilliam's...Darcy's strong arms pulled me behind the carriage, out of sight from the Netherfield mansion.

"May I help you, Mr. Darcy?"

"Something changed tonight, after Richard arrived...you changed, Miss Elizabeth,"

"What are you accusing me of, Mr. Darcy?"

"So it's Mr. Darcy again?"

"I think we've forgotten propriety long enough."

"Propriety," Darcy muttered, chuckling a little. "That's not what this is about."

"Please enlighten me, then, Sir," I say, nodding my head. "What is this about, exactly?"

"It's about..." His voice was strained, but he trailed off. Suddenly he raised his hand to my cheek, and brushed a stray hair out of my face. My breath caught. His fingertips lingered on my cheek for a moment, before he removed his hand away quickly.

"Please forgive me. I'm sorry to have delayed you, Miss Elizabeth." He stepped away from me, and opened my carriage door. "Goodnight, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth."

My hand tingled from when he assisted me into the carriage. I felt a blush rise to my cheeks, and that familiar warmth inside of me.

"Goodnight, Mr. Darcy," I said softly. He gave me a tight smile, and then closed the carriage door.

Only then, when he was out of my sight and I caught my breath did I notice the note pressed into my hand, folded into an impossibly small square.

When we got back to Longbourn, I raced to my room, and opened it the second I was alone.

_Tomorrow, at dawn. Meet me at your reading tree. _

"Propriety be damned," I whispered to myself.

My only wish, dear diary, is to live long enough that I no longer regret it.

**A/N: Sorry for the cliffhanger, but I'm really not sorry. I _do, _however, sincerely apologize again for the long delay in updating. I promise I will make an effort to be more prompt. **

**Also, IF ANYONE IS DOING NANOWRIMO THIS MONTH, I would love it if you added me as a Writing Buddy. I promise to add you back. My username is the same as it is here: myriadharbourchallenger. **

**Thank you all, please review! **

**xx**


	7. Chapter 7

Dearest Diary,

Forgive me for my scattered thoughts, and for jumping in the middle of things, but I must put pen to paper too quickly for me to organize myself, lest I forget everything that has happened in the past two months.

It has been two weeks since he has looked at me.

Two weeks since he has spoken my name.

Two weeks since he has met me at our spot.

Two weeks that I have missed him.

Two weeks that I have been confused.

Two weeks that I have pretended nothing has happened.

Two weeks that I have smiled at Richard the way that I used to smile at Darcy.

_Darcy_. I hate calling him that. I absolutely, positively, _loathe _not being able to call him Fitzwilliam, not even in the privacy of my own mind. Not even in the confines of my own diary.

Why, dear Diary?

Because it feels like a concession.

Like everything I've been telling myself for the past two months has all been a lie.

Calling him Fitzwilliam, now, would be like admitting it.

And if I ever did admit it, that I was in love with him, I think it would actually destroy me.

But it seems pointless denying it, because these last two weeks have been torture. Pure, constant agony.

I think I could have handled it, honestly could have lived happily ever after with Richard if I had not gone to meet him on that fateful morning. And every morning after that.

But is happiness really worth the regret I would feel if I had not met him under the tree that morning?

I guess I will never know now.

I remember that morning so distinctly, like it was yesterday. I rose before everyone, as usual, grabbed a book and an apple, to avoid suspicion, and practically ran through the field to the tree where he found me reading the first time we met.

He was waiting for me. Waiting for me as if he had been watching me forever. As soon as our eyes met, his face broke out into a wide smile, and I would swear the sun was shining from his eyes.

"Good morning, Mr. Darcy," I said. "Fancy meeting you here." I grinned impishly. I couldn't help myself from flirting with him. I couldn't help myself at all.

"Good morning, Miss Elizabeth. You look lovely, as ever." His eyes looked alive, and he gestured that we should walk along the path that led away from Netherfield and Longbourn.

"Thank you," I could feel myself blush, especially after I looked at him from the corner of my eye, and I noticed how full his lips were in the profile of the sun.

"May I ask you a question?" I prompted, nearly exploding when his hand brushed against mine as we walked.

"Of course," His voice sounded like a smile.

"Why...why did you want to meet me here this morning?"

There was a long pause.

"I...well, I am afraid I do not have an adequate answer for you, Miss Elizabeth."

I took a sharp intake of breath.

He continued, "I am full of many pieces of an answer, Eliza-forgive me, Miss Elizabeth, but I cannot seem to make it into a coherent reason for forgetting propriety completely."

I smiled a small smile. "Spare me half a reason, Mr. Darcy," I teased.

"Something changed last night, when Richard came back. I wanted to see where I-forgive me, our friendship-stood with you. I also wanted to apologize, I feel I have gotten too comfortable with you too quickly. I realized last night I might have projected some of my feelings about Georgiana and Mr. Wickham onto you and Mr. Powell, and assumed too much. After all, I have only known you a short time."

"That is very true," I said slowly. "You have certainly not known me long enough to know any intimate details of my personal life."

A smile crept onto his face. "Exactly. We are virtually strangers."

"Don't sell yourself short, Mr. Darcy," I said, smiling despite myself. "You do know my favorite poet."

"Very true, Miss Elizabeth," Darcy said. "Moreover, I know you're favorite poet."

I laughed lightly. He smiled, proud of himself.

"I also remember your fondness for riding horses," He stopped then, standing on the top of the knoll we had just climbed, his broad shoulders shielding my eyes from the light of the rising sun. The bright rays of light framed his face perfectly, and they made his eyes look like rich chocolate. Like something to be savored.

I stopped in front of him, biting my lip as I said, "Then you must also remember that my mother forbids me going near any horse. I am far too reckless." I stepped closer to him then, swaying back and forth slightly. I could smell him...he smelled like pine trees and peppermint and morning tea with honey.

He smelled like small, hidden smiles, and like a library full of crisp, new books.

My nose fell in love with him before I did.

He slowly reached out and brushed a stray piece of hair off of my cheek, behind my ear, and let his fingertips fall lazily, grazing my collarbone, and tracing the bone to my shoulder, where he carefully fingered the material of my dress.

I still remember how wonderful the shiver felt running down my spine.

I still remember the ache I felt deep inside of me to reach out to him. Like everything, _everything_ inside of me needed to touch him.

"Reckless..." He whispered, staring so intensely into my eyes that I had to look away for the sake of my sanity. The silent pause that settled between us was far too heavy.

Finally, he spoke, his words far too late, and far too confusing. "You're mother and I agree," he said, his voice breaking. My eyes snapped back to his, searching for any sign of emotion.

I could not read him. It is endlessly frustrating.

"How should I understand you, Mr. Darcy?" I asked him, hardly daring to raise my voice above a whisper. "Are you speaking of Jonathan? Or are you..."

"No! You think I would hold something like that against you?"

"Do not leap to your own defense so quickly, sir, many-most-gentlemen would!"

"I am _not _most gentlemen," He said. "I thought you knew that."

I didn't like how escalated the conversation was getting, but I didn't know how to calm both of our tempers without spiraling out of control.

"You've just pointed out that I don't know you at all, Mr. Darcy," I said, frustrated with myself for being so exasperated and upset with him for frustrating me and annoyed that I had no control over my emotions.

"And as if that wasn't enough, you also have the nerve to call me _reckless _and not tell me why! Tell me, Mr. Darcy, if we are of so little acquaintance, _why did you ask to meet me?" _

"Why did you _come?_"

My chest was heaving. How could such a short conversation have me reeling? And how, when I was so livid with him for his accusations-_reckless-_ could he still be so attractive to me?

I took a deep breath, struck by the sudden realization that, though I was furious with him (undeservedly, no less), no matter how angry he would ever make me, I would still choose him.

I would still choose him over everyone.

I gasped.

I can still hear how loud the small, naive sound echoed loudly in the thick silence between us.

Darcy's eyes widened, and then darkened as I stepped closer.

"Mr. Darcy, I..."

"Well, if it isn't my two favorite people!" called a rich voice.

Darcy stepped away and pushed me back gently as I looked up to find Richard cresting over the hill on horseback.

"Good morning, Lord Fitzwilliam!" I called, my voice stretched thin.

"Richard!" Darcy said, with a chuckle that sounded too jolly to be believable. His cheeks were still flushed with annoyance. "You're up earlier than usual."

"Well, Darce, as they say..."

(We never found out what _they _said).

"My dear Miss Elizabeth, you look enchanting as ever this morning,"

I felt my cheeks heat, which encouraged Richard, though the compliment was meant for Mr. Darcy. My blush was on account of his soft stare when Richard spoke my name. I looked at him with curiosity, but his eyes moved swiftly to the ground.

"Thank you, Lord Fitzwilliam," I said. "It is very lucky that I was able to meet you and your cousin by chance on this fine morning. It has made my usual morning walk much more enjoyable."

Darcy smiled. Relieved.

"By chance?" Richard asked, unable to hide the suspicion in his voice.

"I was just about to start reading," I said, gesturing to the book in my hand, "when Mr. Darcy called to me. Luckily for us, you have joined our party, and we can all continue on this path together with propriety's favor."

"It is very fortunate, Richard," Darcy said. "For I know how we both love Miss Elizabeth's company."

"Yes, I have yet to find a soul that does not adore her," Richard said smilingly.

"You have not yet met Caroline Bingley, it seems," I muttered. Darcy snorted, but Richard was unable to hear.

"But unfortunately," Richard continued, "I did not rise early this morning by chance. Caroline had me woken, and sent me to find you. She's quite keen on serving breakfast to everyone. Why-Miss Elizabeth, why don't you join us at Netherfield for breakfast? It is a very short walk from here."

"Thank you for the kind invitation, Lord Fitzwilliam, but I should really be getting home. My father will start to worry."

"Dinner, then," Richard said, already riding away. "I'll have an invitation sent over. Darcy, they are waiting!" He sent Darcy a pointed look, and rode off into the distance.

"He acts like he is master of the house, not a guest," Darcy said, annoyed.

"I can understand why you are so exasperated," I said snarkily. "It is understandable not to have such a _reckless _guest over to dinner."

I turned on my heel and walked away, but he cut me off.

"You _know _that is not what I meant."

"What did you mean?"

"You take risks. You don't do what people expect of you. You aren't afraid. You ride fiercely ahead, disregarding the challenges you may face. You don't slow down. You rise up.

Being reckless is not always a bad thing, Miss Elizabeth."

"Perhaps you should consult a dictionary, Mr. Darcy," I said, fighting the lump in my throat. "Because I am fairly certain that is not the definition of reckless."

Darcy chuckled, his eyes warm.

"But I am also afraid, Mr. Darcy, that you have completely misunderstood my character. I think you have just proven how little we _do_ know about one another."

"Or, maybe...maybe I have just proven how little you know about yourself."

He stepped closer, gently brushing my chin and tilting my face up to his. "Take a look in the mirror, Miss Elizabeth. Because though I have not known you for a long time, I know this: you are everything I have just described. I just think that with everything that has happened...you've forgotten what you look like. You can't recognize yourself."

I closed my eyes to block out the tears that threatened to fall to the ground like lonely raindrops.

He leaned in and whispered, "I _see _you, Elizabeth. Don't hide from me. Don't hide from yourself."

I don't know how long I stood there, alone, before I opened my eyes and returned to Longbourn.

When I arrived, there was an invitation on the table.

An invitation to dinner.

**A/N: Sorry for the short chapter, hopefully real life gives me a break and I'll have more for you soon. Please review!**


	8. Chapter 8

I remember laughing, dear Diary.

I remember laughing all the time.

It became a routine, meeting Darcy every morning at my reading tree. At _our _spot. I loved that it became routine. I showed him my favorite paths for walking and he told me about his parents, and about his childhood, and lovely stories about Georgiana and Richard. I learned about how much he loathed his great aunt Catherine, but how much he adored Richard's parents, Lord and Lady Matlock.

He learned about me, too. I told him about my mother's bad luck with having five daughters, but never a son, and how it was lucky she and Lydia were so much alike, if not for that, she would most likely learn to loathe the sight of her.

I told him about how much I adored my father, and how much I missed Jane.

I never told him why we were no longer speaking. I never told him it had everything to do with him.

I think he knows, though. I think Jane told him...after.

We talked about silly things, we recited our favorite poems to one another, we discussed our favorite books.

I might have loved him before, dear Diary, I couldn't tell you when exactly those chocolate brown eyes became all I thought about and his deep voice started whispering to me in the wind and the thought of _touching him, just touching him, just brushing my hand against the stubble on his cheek_ CONSUMED me.

I know that it is fruitless, and I know that none of it matters anymore, but I am certain that there is some element of magic in the world because, dear Diary, I know that I fell in love with him from the minute I saw him.

It took one glance and a five minute conversation for him to change me forever, and there has got to be some magic in that.

It took one glance and a five minute conversation for me to fall in love with him.

For me to love him in a way that I never felt about Jonathan, and for me to care about him more than I will ever care about Richard.

And even though none of it matters now, and even though he has broken me beyond repair, and even though I hate myself because I will always _always _choose security over him, and even though he has never _never _loved me, it just took one glance and a five minute conversation.

Shouldn't it have taken more than that?

Regardless, though I may have loved him before, my love grew and twisted and evolved into some _monster _that _consumed _me, that _overwhelmed me_, because of our daily walks.

As we talked, as I learned more about him, my love for him grew in a way that I don't think is possible to explain.

We are so, _so _similar, and yet we are so different.

We would disagree, we would tease each other, we would argue over meaningless details and bicker about trifling matters, coming up with absurd arguments and fighting the other one on every minute detail until we would both lose ourselves in laughter.

And when it came to important things, on these we would always agree, and settle into a content silence until someone continued into a new conversation.

I didn't know what love was until I met Fitzwilliam Darcy. And I didn't know the extent with which I could feel love until I got to know him. Until I understood him. Until I knew him better than I knew myself.

"You can't keep meeting him," Jane said one morning when we were alone in the library.

I feigned deafness.

"I know you can hear me, Lizzy," she said, sighing and closing her book.

"And I also know that you can't possibly believe that you are going to get away with all of this."

There was a long silence when her gaze penetrated me. I stared straight ahead, unable to meet her eyes until the last second, when I glared at her.

"Let's not pretend the great Elizabeth Bennet is dumb, shall we?" She said in a tight voice. "Nor is Fitzwilliam Darcy, so they must be willfully ignorant of the consequences that will inevitably arise if they continue to meet in "secret" over the course of the next few weeks. At some point before he proposes, Lord Fitzwilliam will undoubtedly confront Mr. Darcy and demand for him to let him know if he has any feelings for you, and request that he will terminate them, out of familial obligation. After all, Mr. Darcy loves Lord Fitzwilliam more than anything, and would not want to tear his family apart, after everything with Georgiana."

"How on earth do you know that-"

"Does it really matter? Let's continue. After Mr. Darcy talks to Fitzwilliam, he will cut off all contact with you, to save his relationship with his cousin. That is without a doubt. He will certainly cherish the early morning walks and carry the memories with him for the rest of his life, and I'm certain he will _always _love you, because, let's face it, who couldn't? But he is a man of high esteem and will need an heir, so he will take a wife of elite position within the next few years, especially after Lord Fitzwilliam finally asks you to marry him. And after a few years, when you can no longer have children and you and Lord Fitzwilliam are no longer intimate, and have permanently settled into separate bedrooms, he will know who you are thinking about late at night, all alone, because he's always known. He's known it from the start and has done everything in his power to change it and win your affections, but who can live up to the great Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy in Lizzy Bennet's eyes? Especially considering she would risk her reputation, her family's reputation, and her future engagement with a man of high esteem who _adores _her to go on early morning strolls with a man who she is infatuated with. So, inevitably, Lord Fitzwilliam will end up taking a mistress, and you will end up alone, wishing you could take it all back."

"Why are you being like this? When has Jane Bennet ever been the cruel one?"

"Since you left the position vacant while you were off flirting with your Prince Charming! Someone has to be responsible!"

"That's funny, considering three weeks ago I told you I realized it was time to be practical, and you stopped talking to me because I wasn't following my _heart_."

"You want to be practical? Then be _practical, _Lizzy!"

"You think I don't _know? _You think I don't know he doesn't have any feelings for me? I _obviously _know, Jane! I _obviously _know because he always reminds me of how _happy _he is that we will continue to be _friends _after Richard and I get married! You think I don't know? You think it doesn't _kill me?_ I KNOW! But if a walk every day is all I can get with Mr. Darcy, I will take it, because I also _know _that Lord Fitzwilliam has no right to be insecure, not when I spend my mornings with Mr. Darcy, and my entire _day _with Fitzwilliam. You think I'm a stupid harlot, fine. But I _know_, I am _secure_ in the fact that Lord Fitzwilliam loves me, and Darcy never will, but that's okay. It's okay that I will marry Fitzwilliam, because in the end, I'll still be able to spend my mornings with Mr. Darcy, and my afternoons and nights with Lord Fitzwilliam. And that will be _enough_. It has to be."

"No it doesn't! You don't have to settle! Mr. Darcy-"

"Doesn't love me. He never will. And he is too much of a gentleman to lower his station by marrying a girl of my position. We are all thinking _practically_."

"Practicality is overrated when it costs you your heart."

"My heart constantly betrays me by falling in love with men I will never be able to have. Forgive me for thinking more reasonably about a possible future."

"You don't know that Darcy doesn't love you."

"Oh, yes I do. Jane, I've gotten to know him _so _well. I know him better than I know myself. And I know without a doubt that he doesn't love me. And even if we did, now I am so close to getting a proposal from Lord Fitzwilliam and we developed a _friendship_ that he would not be willing to risk on a whim. He's afraid of getting hurt. We all are."

"I cannot believe that. I do not."

"That's so good. I'm so glad that you never had to compromise your values, or your ideals, or your innocent beliefs about the nature of the world. I cannot tell you how happy I am that you are about to get the man of your dreams, and adorable little redheaded children, and everything you ever wanted out of life. But I need you to trust me when I tell you that that kind of luck isn't for us all."

"How would you know if you never take a risk?"

"What are you suggesting?"

"Tell Mr. Darcy how you feel, Lizzy. Take a chance on your happily ever after."

"You don't understand Jane. That gamble is all or nothing.

"If I win, I get Mr. Darcy and the life of love I always dreamed. But if he doesn't feel the same way, he will tell Lord Fitzwilliam, and I will lose any hope of security, any hope of spending anytime with Darcy, or Georgiana, or even Lord Fitzwilliam in the future."

"You care about Lord Fitzwilliam, too?"

"Of course I do. I would never marry a man that I hate. I care about Lord Fitzwilliam. I _love _him, too. I think I may love him more than I ever loved Jonathan. If I had never met Darcy, I would be blissfully happy marrying him, settling down with him, starting a family with him. The love I have for Fitzwilliam fills me up, it consumes me."

"Then how do you feel about Mr. Darcy?"

"The affection, the love I have for Mr. Darcy...it _overtakes me._ It constantly drags me down into it and threatens to drown me and its the most scary and incredible and breathtaking feeling I have ever experienced."

"That doesn't make sense to me."

"Honestly? Me either. But I'm confident in the decisions I've made."

"And if Darcy came right now and proposed, confessing his undying love for you?"

"I would say yes. Of course I would say yes. Why would you ever settle for running once you learned how to fly?"

* * *

><p>The next morning, the sun was shining and there was a light breeze, and the day felt magical, and for a second, as I waited for Mr. Darcy, for <em>Fitzwilliam <em>to arrive, I considered the possibility. For the first time, I considered the possibility of us. The possibility of me telling him how I felt, and him reciprocating. But when I saw his face as he crested the hill, I couldn't bring myself to.

Because his face said it all. I just couldn't bring myself to believe what my mind was screaming at my heart. _It-this-is over._

"What's wrong?" I asked.

He broke into a watery smile. "Richard has requested that we stop having these little rendezvous."

"Who is Lord Fitzwilliam to be offended about a meeting between two friends?" I asked, panic in my voice.

"Elizabeth," Fitzwilliam said, taking my hand. "You and I both know this is not a meeting between friends." He brushed a stray hair from my cheek.

"I, at least, feel more than that."

"You do?" I asked, my voice shaking.

"Of course I do. Do you not feel this between us?"

"No, I do, of course, Fitzwilliam, I do!"

"Which is why it is an injustice to you for us to continue to meet. For us to have a friendship at all."

"What? Fitzwilliam, what are you talking about?"

"My cousin, Lord Fitzwilliam, is about to offer you a marriage proposal." There was a sad determination in his eyes. "He can offer you more than I can, and regardless, he, unlike me, is in the position where he can afford to marry someone of your station, whereas if I were to enter into a marriage with you, it would be a disgrace to my family, and it would not be fair to my sister to have relatives with such...unsavory...manners."

I recoiled out of his grasp like he had burned me.

"Elizabeth, you know I exclude you and your sister, but the rest of your family has unfit manners for high society, with your mother's matchmaking habits, and loud drunken speeches, your father's inability to control your siblings, and your sister's flirtations, when they are far too young to be out in society in the first place! You know all of this to be true, you have said so to me yourself."

"Yes, but not so that you could use my statements to hurt me! Not so you could be so cruel."

He flinched involuntarily, and for a moment I saw his eyes soften, and I saw the Fitzwilliam I recognized.

"Surely you understand, that I must prioritize my relationship with Richard, my closest friend and relative, over my relationship with you, a girl who, though I may care for deeply, I do not wish to marry or continue a relationship with after this season."

I felt tears roll down my cheeks, but made no effort to wipe them away. I wanted to lash out at him, to hurt him in the way he was hurting me.

"You care for me deeply? That is shocking considering I didn't know you were capable of human emotions! It truly is a shock to know that you ever cared for me, considering how you ignored me at our first assembly together, how you constantly pushed me away-directly into the arms of your cousin. It is no wonder, then, that he should fall in love with me, and that I should fall in love with him!"

Fitzwilliam looked like I had smacked him in the face, and for the first time all morning, I recognized him.

And for the first time in our entire acquaintance, I could read his expression completely.

And I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he loved me.

So I used it as a weapon to gut him, as he had gutted me.

"Oh, yes, Fitzwilliam, as much as I _care _for you, Richard will always come first in my heart. Just like he always comes first, right? To me and to Georgiana?"

"I know I've hurt you today but there is no reason for you to rip my heart out with your teeth."

"How can a girl, so utterly meaningless to you that you would exploit her for her friendship and manipulate her with so called secrets, rip out the stone cold heart of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy?"

He clenched his jaw. "In the manner of all of her relatives, with no trace of propriety or good manners, and with no grace of speech or hint of intelligence."

"It is no wonder you could have fooled her with all of your lies, Mr. Darcy, if she is in fact so stupid. Tell me, did George Wickham really convince your sister to elope, or was that just a lie to manipulate my friendship?"

"I'm sorry you've wasted your time on a friend you so obviously think so little of."

"I'm sorry you've wasted your time on a girl that is so obviously meaningless to you."

I had to look away then, because I couldn't stand the thought of him seeing me cry.

He sighed, and out of the corner of my eye I saw him wipe his cheeks quickly then turn on his heel and walk away.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Guys it's time for the Netherfield Ball! I can't tell you how excited I am for this scene, and how grateful I am to all of you who have stuck with me during my sporadic updating and frequent abandonment of this story. This is for all of you who have been waiting patiently...I'm sorry but I can't give you your happy ending yet. ****Also, I'm switching back to third person. Elizabeth got swept up in the emotion and forgot about some of the details, sorry about that :) **

**I really hope you enjoy the chapter.**

_Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. _

"Are you sure?"

"Jane, you can't possibly-"

"Like you actually care about her feelings!"

"Lizzy, what on earth are you thinking?"

"Improper, so improper..."

"Papa is talking to the gentleman right now, you can't possibly think he would..."

"I can't believe this! I really can't believe this is happening!"

Everyone was talking over each other, all at once.

"EVERYONE QUIET, _PLEASE," _Elizabeth found herself shouting.

_Breathe in, breathe out. _

She closed her eyes to the shocked, worried, and impatient faces that swarmed before her. She walked briskly to the door, and opened it swiftly, gesturing at everyone to make an exit.

"Please, just...just give me a moment to think. A moment to clear my head."

Mrs. Bennet sighed, but shooed everyone out of the room. "Just one moment," she said, cutting her eyes at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth nodded, pursing her lips together. They were almost drained of blood, pressed between her teeth.

Jane lingered at the threshold, but Elizabeth nodded, and Jane exited slowly, pain etched in every line of her face. Her eyes seem to whisper, _I'm so sorry_. Her small smile was a pathetic attempt at comfort, but Elizabeth needed her to leave as soon as possible.

Because if Jane stayed in the small room any longer, Elizabeth would launch herself into Jane's arms and begin to sob uncontrollably. And she couldn't do that. She couldn't fall apart right now.

Elizabeth nodded again, and Jane finally turned into the hallway, with a final look over her shoulder. Elizabeth moved to close the door behind her, and she saw him.

_Him. _She couldn't help but gasp for breath. _Please, _Elizabeth pleaded with her eyes.

Darcy turned away, swallowing a heavy lump in his throat. He would give anything to take her into his arms and wipe away the tears that were threatening to spill over her eyes.

The tears he was responsible for.

He wanted more than anything to tell her the truth.

But he knew her. He knew her better than anybody.

He knew her better than she knew herself.

He had spent weeks, months, _memorizing _her.

Falling in love with her.

And he knew she loved Richard. After all, she had told him, after ripping his heart into a million pieces.

_"You practically pushed me into the open arms of your cousin," _Her words ripped through him. _"It's no wonder, then, that he should fall in love with me, and that I should fall in love with him!" _

He shivered involuntarily.

That was four weeks ago.

They hadn't spoken since then.

* * *

><p>He almost spoke to her the next day, as she was leaving a dinner party at Netherfield. After enduring an entire evening of watching her fawn over Richard, and tease him, after watching her press herself against him all evening and finding excuses to touch him, he was about to explode.<p>

He had to know.

So he snuck out when he knew they were about to leave, and rode to her house, waiting in the shadows patiently for her carriage to arrive. Waiting to call her name from the darkness. Waiting for her eyes to light up, and for her to walk towards him, like she did every day when they met in the woods. She never looked at Richard like that, had she?

He was prepared. He practiced saying her name, relishing the sound as it tumbled out of his lips.

"Elizabeth."

_Elizabeth. _

He shivered as he said it.

She looked devastated the day before. He had to apologize, he had to explain, he had to tell her that he loved her. She would surely forgive him, she would surely understand that he said all of those hurtful things because he had to distance himself from her.

She would surely forgive him, because he was throwing everything away. His relationship with Richard. His favor with his aunt and uncle. He would throw everything away for her.

He loved her, and that was all that mattered.

If only he had realized that a few days ago.

She was all that mattered.

After standing there for what seemed like hours, after he had lost feeling in the tips of his fingers, the carriage finally rattled to a stop in front of Longbourn. He paused, staying in the shadows as Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, Mary, Kitty, and Lydia went into the house, talking animatedly amongst themselves.

Elizabeth stepped out of the carriage after them, with a stiff posture, chin up, and face drawn. She gathered her skirts up around her and made way towards the door, when Jane's small hand laced around her arm.

"What on earth were you doing tonight?"

"I have no idea what you mean, Jane," Elizabeth said stiffly.

"You hardly looked at Mr. Darcy. And you stayed in this morning; you didn't go to meet him."

"Perhaps I heeded your advice, after all," Elizabeth practically whispered. She didn't meet Jane's eyes, and for a split second, her posture faltered. "It is time for me to be practical. Darcy and I discussed it yesterday morning, and we both agreed that we shouldn't risk our mutual destruction by continuing the development of our relationship. It wasn't worth it to risk our reputations for such fleeting feelings."

_Mutual destruction...fleeting feelings..._ she wielded the words like a slap Darcy felt, stinging.

"Fleeting!" Jane called, indignant. "Only yesterday you claimed love for him. And all summer-all season, you have been consumed with thoughts of him. Tell me that's not why you have been hiding away in the attic, pouring out your thoughts for him in your diary. Tell me that is why you have withdrawn from me. Tell me I know nothing of my own sister!"

"Infatuation, and nothing else."

"You think me a fool, Lizzy," Jane accused.

"Oh, my dear Jane. No of course not. I am the only fool here, to confuse my feelings. Things are so much clearer to me know, more clear than they were a day, an hour, a minute ago."

"Explain it to me, then, if you are blessed with such clarity."

"It all goes back to Jonathan, Jane, don't you see? At the beginning of the summer, I confess, I was drawn to Mr. Darcy, because of all of our commonalities and our easy conversation. But everything with Lord Fitzwilliam made it complicated, more complicated than I could understand at the time, even now. As I got to know Fitzwilliam, it became clear to me quickly that he was the one who saw me, who sifted through the mess I had made with Jonathan, the horrible feelings and depression I still had looming over me, and looked closely at my heart. He _saw _me Jane. He knows me. And I love him more than I ever thought I could love anyone. More than I ever loved Jonathan, to be sure. More than I ever meant to love anyone again.

"But I also developed a friendship with the other gentleman. And I confess, I developed feelings for him as well. But I kept him around as a safety net. Not for money, no, but...that way I could protect myself. If I never gave my entire heart to Fitzwilliam...he could never entirely destroy me. Not that it matters now."

She spoke with such conviction that her eyes shone, and Darcy was moved, swayed by her speech, as was Jane. He felt as if his heart had leapt from his chest into the

"I thought Lord Fitzwilliam was your security, not Mr. Darcy," Jane said, crying. "You told me your love for Mr. Darcy overwhelmed you."

"You must have misunderstood what I meant, Jane. I meant that being with someone like Mr. Darcy would overwhelm you constantly, weighing you down, almost drowning you. And both of us together, all of that passion..."

"It's cold out here, Jane, and I'm tired. I'm so, so tired. I'm going to bed. Goodnight." With a grimace of a smile, Elizabeth spun away from her sister and went inside.

Without thinking, Darcy stepped forward to follow her inside, to chase after her, and he stepped on a twig, which cracked loudly in the silence.

Jane turned towards the sound, and she breathed a sigh of relief when she made out his form in the half-twilight. "Mr. Darcy, you gave me quite a fright."

Darcy attempted a smile, but knew it was a poor effort.

Jane noticed. "You heard everything, I suppose?"

"I'm afraid so, Miss Bennet. I am sorry to intrude."

"Don't be, Mr. Darcy. I just hope...you will not relay any of this to Lord Fitzwilliam? I am just afraid for how it will make Elizabeth appear."

"You have no need to worry, Miss Bennet. Besides, Richard and I are barely on speaking terms at the moment, especially about Elizabeth."

"Oh?" Jane asked, curiosity peaked.

"I am afraid he thinks me to be in love with her, what with our not so secret meetings, and our conversations in group discussions."

"I must confess I thought you to be in love with her, as well," Jane said. "But it is not my place to speak so openly about these matters."

Darcy laughed gently despite the roaring storm of grief and pain welling up inside of him. "It is easy to forget propriety when it comes to her, isn't it? She makes you forget your place, where you are, what you're supposed to say, what you're supposed to do. She makes everyone's walls come down."

Jane smiled sadly at him. "It doesn't add up...her feelings for him, her feelings for you. Her sudden clarity."

"Richard asked me that we shouldn't meet for morning walks anymore. When he reminded me how it might negatively affect Georgiana's reputation, and how he has serious intentions to make an offer of marriage soon, I agreed that it was for the best. And tonight has made the decision even easier for me. You know your sister better than I do, Miss Bennet. And weren't you convinced by her speech?"

"She loves him, I believe she really does. But...I know it doesn't help, Mr. Darcy, but I was rooting for you. I was rooting for you the whole time."

"I should have asked her to dance at the assembly, I believe."

Jane laughed sadly.

"Goodnight, Miss Bennet,"

"Goodnight, Mr. Darcy."

* * *

><p>Darcy was brought back to the present when Elizabeth closed the door harshly, blocking her bright eyes from view. He thought he heard a chocking sob behind the thick wood, and without thinking he stumbled forward, pressing his hands, and then his face, and then his entire body as he slid against the door, sitting with his back against it as he dissolved, shaking violently, as he cried into his hands, crying for everything he had lost, crying for everything he had given up, crying for everything he had pushed away.<p>

* * *

><p>Elizabeth stumbled back from the door she had just slammed in Darcy's face. She started shaking violently, and a strangled sound escaped her throat, miraculously making its way around the enormous lump she could barely swallow around.<p>

She had been so sure...so certain that she could stand by her choices.

How dare he take that away from her? How _dare _he make her feel this way? How dare he have so much power over her, when she had absolutely nothing over him?

Just a few hours ago, her mind was made...and she could have happily made her decision.

She chose hope. Hope for a chance of happiness.

But she wasn't sure it was enough anymore...

* * *

><p>"Jane, Elizabeth! We have received the most exciting news!"<p>

"Perhaps if we do not answer, she will not bother us with her relentless gossip," Elizabeth said softly to Jane, who was meticulously placing pins in Elizabeth's hair, piling her thick curls upon her head.

"Lizzy..." Jane admonished, but smiled regardless.

Things had been...delicate...between them. Elizabeth was frustrated with Jane for not understanding, or supporting her decision regarding Lord Fitzwilliam, and Jane was convinced that Elizabeth had far too much practice at denying her own heart.

"Elizabeth, my dear sweet child!" Mrs. Bennet said in a loud voice, bursting into the room like an overexcited child. Kitty and Lydia were close on her heels, clutching each other and jumping around in a circle.

"Pray, what is the news, Mama?" Jane asked politely, while Elizabeth had only enough restraint to keep from rolling her eyes.

"You'll never believe it!" Kitty drawled.

"_I _can scarcely believe it, and I was there when Lady Lucas told us!"

Kitty, Lydia, and Mrs. Bennet had just returned from tea and the Lucases.

"Kitty and Lydia, you best hurry to get ready for the Netherfield Ball, while I tell your sisters!" Mrs. Bennet said excitedly.

After Kitty and Lydia had run from the room giggling, Mrs. Bennet turned to Elizabeth and Jane, barely able to keep from screaming, "Lady Lucas had tea with Miss Bingley yesterday, and she is convinced that Lord Fitzwilliam will make an offer of marriage to you! Tonight!"

All of the color drained from Elizabeth's face, but her mother didn't notice.

"How exciting," Jane said.

"Yes. Quite." Elizabeth mustered.

"You look so very beautiful, my dear child," Mrs. Bennet said, cupping Elizabeth's face with her hands. "There is no way he will be able to resist you!"

She ran from the room then to tell Mr. Bennet.

"Do you still plan on saving Mr. Darcy a dance?" Jane asked quietly after a few moments.

"How on earth do you know that I promised him one?"

"As of late, he has joined Mr. Bingley and I in the afternoons, when you are with Lord Fitzwilliam, and one of the girls."

"So he is your chaperone," Elizabeth intones, as if she hadn't noticed.

"And we have become friends."

"_Friends," _Elizabeth said flatly, choking back something between a laugh and a sob.

"I think he misses you, Lizzy."

"Nothing to be done about that," Elizabeth said.

"Tell me you don't miss him, too," Jane said, stepping back from Elizabeth's hair, surveying her work.

"I think it very unlikely," Elizabeth said, meeting Jane's eyes for the first time, "but if he should come to me, I would dance with him. He still has my dinner set."

"And which ones have you promised to Lord Fitzwilliam?"

"All but the last, for propriety's sake."

"Propriety!" Jane laughed. "And who have you saved the last for?"

"Father."

There was a long pause.

"Tell me you don't miss Mr. Darcy, Lizzy,"

"It is time to go, Jane." Elizabeth said, standing abruptly.

"Lizzy..."

"What would you wish for me to say, dearest Jane? Would you prefer for me to lie to you, to tell you what you want to hear? What would you want me to say, when it makes no difference, when, if Mama is right, I will be betrothed to another man before the night is out?"

"I want you to tell me the truth."

"The truth?"

"It's all I've ever wanted, Lizzy. For you to tell me, and most of all, yourself, the truth about how you feel."

Elizabeth sighed into the long silence that followed. "I miss him, Jane. Of course I miss him."

"Girls! The carriage is ready!"

The short ride to Netherfield felt like an eternity to Elizabeth. All the while, her mother was prattling incessantly on about Elizabeth's engagement, and her giving her meaningless warnings to prevent her from messing it up.

"Take care not to talk too much while dancing with him, tonight, dear," Mrs. Bennet said as the carriage finally rolled to a stop. "Perhaps the gentleman might rethink his decision."

Mrs. Bennet then lost herself to her giggles, and who could blame her, for her poor nerves were bothering her, what with all of this excitement. All the while, Elizabeth felt her father's gaze acutely, trying to catch her eye, trying to see into her mind, and discern whether this what what she really wanted.

Elizabeth was almost tempted to meet his gaze, to stare back at him deeply, if not only to feel the comfort she always did when she was near her father, but so that he might be able to give her some insight into her own soul.

But she couldn't bring herself to look squarely at him, for surely he knew. Surely he knew how cowardly she was; that she could not admit her feelings for either gentleman, not even to herself. She couldn't bring herself to look at him and see what she saw when she looked in the mirror.

She couldn't stand anyone else being disappointed with her.

So when her father took her hand to help her out of the carriage, she didn't turn to him to thank him.

Instead, she looked straight ahead, putting on what she hoped was a brave smile as she walked into the Netherfield Mansion.

She kept her chin up, and didn't look over her shoulder once.

Not when she stepped past her father.

Not when Jane fell into step beside her, not saying a word.

Not when she passed the place where she saw Jonathan for the first time.

Not when she saw Jonathan, himself.

Not when she walked past Mr. Darcy, stepping close enough to him that she could smell his cologne, and felt his gaze on her, staining her skin with a blush she felt would betray her.

She looked straight ahead to where Lord Fitzwilliam was waiting for her, offering her his arm, and smiling warmly at her.

She didn't look back once, and when Lord Fitzwilliam turned her towards the dance floor for the opening number, she could only meet his eyes for a moment before she had to look away from his penetrating gaze.

She didn't turn her eyes in his direction for the rest of the dance. She couldn't bring herself to.

This night was already hard enough.

* * *

><p>Elizabeth literally took his breath away. Darcy almost dropped the drink he was holding when she stepped from her carriage, gracefully taking her father's hand and smiling with a determination that he fondly knew only she had. He watched her square her shoulders, and walk purposefully into the Netherfield Hall. When he saw her hesitate when she passed Mr. Powell, his pulse quickened, first with anger, and then with jealousy.<p>

He could barely catch his breath, she was so stunning. The lack of oxygen in the air suddenly seemed more apparent when he noticed what she was wearing-a simple white dress, the hem occasionally kissing the floor as she walked, shoes that exaggerated the smallness of her feet, the neckline flattered her, and her collarbone was exaggerated, drawing Darcy's attention to her regal frame.

She reminded him of a bird. He wondered if she would fly away with him. Fly far, far away.

After a decade, it seemed, she approached him. She kept her gaze straight ahead, but surely she could feel the weight of his stare.

_Elizabeth_. He almost called. _Elizabeth, I love you. I'm in love with you. You've bewitched me. Please, just look at me. Please, I need you. I love you. _

Oh, how he longed to say it.

_Elizabeth. _Just thinking of saying her name, of her sweet name rolling off of his lips again, made his bones ache.

He should have called out to her that night, when she got out of the carriage. Made a proposal of marriage. Confessed his love.

He had a million opportunities, why hadn't he taken one?

The answer, Richard, was so simple, and so complicated.

_Elizabeth, please look at me, _he pleaded as she took another step closer to him. He could make out the light freckles painting her nose. He could count her eyelashes.

Why wouldn't she look at him?

She took another step closer, and this split second stretched into a thousand moments.

It was as if the entire room stopped as Elizabeth stepped in towards him, closer than she should have, closer than she ever had before. It was a crowded room, you couldn't cross the room without brushing past someone. But this was _Elizabeth_, brushing past _him._

His heart stopped as she shifted towards her, only barely.

Her scent permeated the room. Roses and peppermint. Rain and freshly cut grass.

He could feel the heat radiating off of her leg, her thigh, and her shoulder, all which were within an inch of his body.

She was so close...but as soon as he moved to make contact with her, as soon as he found his voice to call her name, she was walking past, not looking back, walking straight into Richard's arms.

After painfully watching them dance together for the first set, he decided that he was not so wounded as to stand and watch them sullenly for the rest of the evening, so in preparation for the second dance, he scoured the room for an appropriate lady to ask to dance.

Finally, after seeing that everyone else's card was full, he settled on asking Miss Caroline Bingley, much to his displeasure.

"Oh, Mr. Darcy, how kind of you to ask me," she said in a tone so sweet it was almost sour.

"It is my pleasure, Miss Bingley," He said, offering his arm to her as he lead her to the dance floor.

Coincidentally, as they walked to the end of the dance line, they lined up behind Elizabeth and Richard, and as soon as they appropriately squared off, Charles and Jane stood in line after them.

"Mr. Bingley, this ball is absolutely spectacular!" Elizabeth called to him.

Charles blushed and said, "Thank you, Miss Elizabeth! Might I say that you are looking very beautiful this evening. Though, I hope I do not offend, but your sister, I believe, is the most gorgeous young lady in the room."

Elizabeth was not offended, she merely threw her head back and laughed. "I am not offended, Mr. Bingley, for I would consent to agree with you."

Jane blushed as Elizabeth turned to Caroline, who was standing next to her. "It truly is a fine party, Caroline, you have done a wonderful job hosting us."

Caroline, for her part, bit back a sarcastic remark, and graciously accepted the compliment, but Mr. Darcy doubted that she saw Elizabeth cut her eyes across the aisle, at him.

Ah. He had forgotten how she felt about Caroline.

Hopefully, for all of their sakes, but especially for Elizabeth's, Richard had not seen her glare at him.

Finally, the music started. Because they were so far down the line, though, there was still plenty of time for conversation.

"Lord Fitzwilliam tells me that you are going to your aunts home, Rosings, for Easter, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said.

"Yes, I plan to," Darcy said genially. "My aunt Catherine would like to spend some time with Georgiana. Richard was to come with us, but he declined."

"I thought I would give you some quality time with Anne, Darcy, old boy," Richard said, slapping Darcy on the back.

Before Darcy could respond to Elizabeth, who was wearing a very confused and somewhat hurt expression, the dance made there way to them, and Richard swept her off.

"Has Elizabeth Bennet stolen all of your conversation, Mr. Darcy?" Caroline asked.

"Of course not, Miss Bingley. What shall we discuss?"

"I shall think of a topic while I take a turn with my brother, for we do not have adequate time to discuss anything now,"

She was right, the dance required them to change partners in a series of three, so Caroline was handed off to Charles, Jane was handed off to Richard, and Elizabeth was handed off to him.

His breath caught when she stepped into his embrace. "I see Miss Bingley is apparently not a disgrace to your family name?" Elizabeth asked, voice cold. "And I suppose her fortune would make up for her poor manners."

"Elizabeth..." Darcy said, spinning her around.

"Don't call me that."

"Elizabeth, you have to know that I didn't mean what I said that day. I didn't mean any of it."

The shock registered in her eyes, but she was whisked away from him before she could say anything. As he began to dance with Jane, he saw a flicker of something...perhaps, hope...in her eyes.

"She misses you." Jane said softly. But her tone brought him back to that night at Longbourn, when Elizabeth convinced them both of her fervent love for Richard.

"Our friendship," Darcy elaborated. "I miss our friendship too. I hope that we can become close again after she and Richard are married."

"You could stand by and let them get married, feeling for her the way that you do?"

"What other option do I have, Miss Bennet? She loves him!"

Jane didn't seem to have any more answers than he did, and then Caroline Bingley was in his arms.

* * *

><p>The words, <em>I didn't mean any of it...<em> were still ringing in her head when she returned to Richard.

"Such a lovely song," she muttered to him so as not to raise suspicion.

"Such a lovely lady," Richard said, pulling her closer. Part of Elizabeth wanted to step closer to him, a large part of her. But there was still a small part of her that felt she was making a wrong choice. "I wish I could dance with you all night long."

"Surely you are not jealous of my father?"

Richard laughed. "No, not your father. But I am jealous of Mr. Darcy."

"Pray, why? He and I are nothing more than friends! Moreover, I have not spoken to him in weeks, until tonight."

"Yes, but you saved him a dance. Your dinner set, no less."

"Lord Fitzwilliam, he asked me weeks ago!"

"Why would you walk with him in the morning?"

"How are you still upset over this?"

"Because I love you!"

Elizabeth said nothing for a moment, all too aware that Darcy's head had snapped over to them. He had heard.

"Lord Fitzwilliam..."

He continued, "And as much as I would love to think that you too were just meeting to discuss poetry and Georgiana, like Darcy has told me, I can't believe it. He guards Georgiana's secret as closely as his own heart. And for him to share one with you, makes me believe that he has shared another."

"Perhaps," Elizabeth said, dropping her voice so no one would hear. "But I cannot speak for Mr. Darcy. I can only speak for myself, when I say that you have my heart, Lord Fitzwilliam. I met with Darcy _because _of you. Because Darcy and Georgiana are important to you, and I wanted to know the important people in your life. To become closer to you."

Richard breathed a sigh of relief.

"You swear there is nothing between you?"

Elizabeth nodded, for she could not bring herself to tell him anymore lies.

Then she was handed off one last time.

She couldn't help herself from meeting Darcy's eyes this time.

"You said you didn't mean any of what you said that morning."

"Yes," Darcy said, voice breaking.

"Define _any._"

Darcy broke into a smile. "I'll have to consult a dictionary, Miss Elizabeth."

"You're infuriating." Elizabeth smiled, regardless, the easiest smile she had given in days.

At this, Darcy's voice dropped into a whisper. He had to remember what was best for her, and for the people in his life he loved the most. "And you're spoken for."

Just like that, the dance ended.

"Do I still have your dinner set?" Darcy asked in an anguished whisper.

"Yes," Elizabeth gasped, like she was drowning and this answer was her saving breath.

"Well, then, allow me,"

With that, he offered her his arm, and she, without needing to think, took it, as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

As if it meant nothing. As if it meant everything.

As if it was the life raft bobbing in the middle of the ocean, and she was finally finding a way to stay afloat.

* * *

><p>It was a waltz.<p>

She hadn't thought about that-or its implications-when Richard had been fussing over it, or when she offered the slot to Mr. Darcy.

But she was grateful for the excuse to be so close to him for an extended period of time.

* * *

><p>It was a waltz.<p>

He went weak at the knees thinking about holding her in his arms, if only for a few moments.

She was watching him through her eyelashes as she curtseyed at him, and Darcy was almost undone.

* * *

><p>It was just like she had remembered, touching him.<p>

When his fingers laced through hers and his palm cradled the base of her spine, tracing patterns and dreams and poetry onto her hip with the tip of his finger, it was like electricity coursing through her, like all of the walls in the room had fallen down, and there was just them, beginning to move together.

* * *

><p>It was like he had been dreaming his entire life, and looking into her eyes as they danced, it was like finally waking up, finally coming to your senses and staying blissfully between the subconsciousness and reality, where you aren't quite awake enough to remember the harshness of life, and everything seems possible in the magic of the grey dawn.<p>

How could he have ever believed that he was not in love with her?

* * *

><p>They said nothing for the first few minutes, only stared at each other with such intensity that it seemed like there was no one else in the room, only moved with each other with such grace that it seemed like the music itself was coming out of their bodies.<p>

It was like magic. It was a level of intimacy that neither one of them had ever felt before.

Elizabeth wanted to get closer to him. She wanted to step into the space between them that was keeping them several inches apart, she wanted to feel his chest against hers, she wanted to feel his thigh between her legs, she wanted to crash into him, going full speed.

Darcy wanted to kiss her.

It would have been easy, simple. Just a brush of his lips against hers. Just a thumb to her cheek, stroking her soft skin. Just a split second, watching her eyelids flutter shut as if they were meeting for the first time.

It would be soft at first, while they were still aware of the people in the room. And then, as she stepped closer to him, and he moved both hands to her face, or to her waist, they would quickly forget everyone, their parents, Richard, the world, propriety. It would just be them, and this kiss, and the power that their love held over each of them.

Darcy wanted to kiss her.

At last, as the music was about to end, Elizabeth spoke, "Say something."

"What?" He asked.

"Say something; say anything. Tell me that _any _means everything. Tell me that you take it all back. Tell me that you miss me. Say anything."

The words _I'm in love with you _were poised on his lips, when he caught Richard out of the corner of his eye, looking at Elizabeth with an expression of undeniable longing, and with unbridled passion. He had told her he loved her earlier in the night, too.

And then, the music ended, and there was a rush of people making their way to where they were serving dinner. Richard moved quickly to find Caroline Bingley in the crowd, and escort her to dinner like the excellent gentleman he was.

Darcy took Elizabeth's arm, but they were caught up in the traffic of human bodies that were moving so quickly that they were separated. In a moment of desperation and good timing, Darcy grabbed Elizabeth's hand.

He would have never let go, but Charles and Jane pulled them out of the crowd.

"Richard just told me he is planning to request a private audience with Miss Elizabeth in lieu of their final dance together, the next set," Charles said quietly.

Jane continued, "Which means that you two need to talk. Now. Before he can make an offer."

"Jane... how could we get away without making it seem obvious?"

"We will all go to the library," Charles suggested. "There are so many people here, many won't notice, and those who do will be given an adequate excuse. Miss Elizabeth was inquiring after the Netherfield Library, and Mr. Darcy just _had _to show Miss Bennet this book he had just read, so we all went up to the library together. Not to worry," he added for Elizabeth's benefit. "There is a guest bedroom whose only entrance is from the library. We will lock the library doors to give you some privacy."

"And give you two some as well, it seems," Elizabeth said, smiling mischievously at Jane.

"I didn't say you were the only one benefitting this plan, did I?" Jane responded.

They quickly made their way to the library, and before Elizabeth could fully think through the repercussions of their plan, she was standing in a very small bedroom, with a very large bed. Alone. With Darcy. And she was overwhelmed with a desire she had never experienced before.

"Elizabeth..."

"He's going to ask me to marry him," Elizabeth said in a faraway voice.

"Yes," Darcy's voice was strangled.

"Mr. Darcy, I need you to _say something. _Give me a reason. Give me a reason not to marry him, and I swear I won't."

Darcy smiled painfully. "Jane has arranged this for my benefit, hasn't she?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said, confused.

"You are afraid of making this commitment to Richard. You're afraid of your feelings for him."

"No," Elizabeth said, suddenly feeling like she was drowning, or like all of the air had left the room. "No, I...Mr. Darcy!"

"I snuck out to Longbourn, one night, the night after I said all of those horrible things to you. We said so many horrible things to each other."

"You said you didn't mean any of it!"

"I didn't, Miss Elizabeth, I didn't, but you did!"

Darcy couldn't believe he was pushing her away after _everything _but he couldn't deny her this happiness. And she had convinced them all...even Jane, who knew her best!

"Tell me you don't love Richard."

"I can't, but-" The words shattered him into a million pieces.

"Then what can I say, Miss Elizabeth?" He had to get out of the room before he started crying.

"But I love you, too, Fitzwilliam!" Why wasn't he listening? Why didn't he understand?

"I love you, as well, Miss Elizabeth! You are a wonderful friend. My _best _friend."

"You don't understand."

"I_ know _you Elizabeth, just as you know me..."

"So _know _that I have real feelings for you!"

"You're scared of giving your heart fully to someone. You're scared Richard will turn into Jonathan!"

"No! Why aren't you listening?"

"Because I care about you! And because I know you love Richard! I won't let you throw away your happiness! You're my best friend, and I wouldn't, couldn't, let my best friend throw away the future she deserves."

"That's all I am to you? A friend?"

Darcy laughed bitterly. "As if I'm anything more to you! I heard you, that night, talking to Jane. You called me a "reserve". You said that I would cause you to drown, I would make you so unhappy. That any love you had for me weighed you down. You don't get to hand over this responsibility to me! You don't get to ask me to "say something"-you don't get to be selfish in this, Miss Elizabeth! You don't get to run away from this. You have to make the decision."

"I am sorry that you have feelings for me. I am sorry that I don't return them. But most of all, I'm sorry that you misinterpreted our friendship, and now its jeopardizing your future with Richard."

Elizabeth was crying, but Darcy didn't notice.

"Stop it, stop it! This is why-this is why I should have never..." But Elizabeth couldn't finish.

Words were weapons, Darcy realized, but so was love.

He knew he was hurting her, but what he hoped she never knew was how much he was hurting himself. He hoped she would never know that his love for her was slowly destroying him, slowly eating away at his insides as he constantly put her above himself.

"You don't understand...that night..."

"Don't deny it, Elizabeth. You convinced both myself and Jane of your affection for Richard."

"I never said such a thing!"

"It's not important now." Darcy was surprised he could speak over the lump in his throat. "Let yourself be happy, Elizabeth. Just let yourself be happy, please."

"I don't want to lose you," She said.

"You're not going to lose me," Darcy said, as he crossed to the door. He had to leave now, before he suffocated. "We will be the very best of friends. We will always be the very best of friends."

And then he left, storming outside so that he could sob out all of the pain in his lungs.

Elizabeth collected herself quickly. That was that, after all. And he was right. She had been keeping a "reserve", in case this happened. He had no feelings for her, as she had always suspected. And they would, in fact, be friends, for the rest of their lives, as Pemberley was close to the land Richard was to inherit.

She wasn't going to lose him.

And now, she collected herself, and went downstairs to meet Richard, in the manner of someone going to pick up an insurance check on their house that had just burnt down.

* * *

><p>She found herself back in the library no less than fifteen minutes later, sitting across from Richard, who held her hands in his lap.<p>

"Miss Elizabeth...you know how I feel about you! You've completely enchanted me and I have fallen madly in love with you. You have known my intentions from the start. So now, I feel that it is finally appropriate to ask you... Will you marry me?"

* * *

><p>"WHAT DID YOU SAY TO HER?" Lord Fitzwilliam roared, storming outside. Luckily, Elizabeth had followed closely and made sure that the courtyard door was closed before Richard exploded.<p>

Neither Lord Fitzwilliam or Mr. Darcy noticed her lurking in the shadows, however.

The light was dim enough that she could barely make out their outlines in the dark, but their voices carried clearly to her in the silence.

The shadows were forgiving enough that no one could tell that Mr. Darcy had been crying, and his voice was steady.

"I do not believe I know what you're talking about, Richard," Darcy said.

"I have just asked Elizabeth to be my wife."

"Congratulations," Darcy said, but he sounded as if someone had died.

"She seemed fine when we were dancing earlier, and assured me that she cared deeply for me. But after dancing with _you, _she has to consider my proposal before she will give me an answer."

"I assure you, I said nothing," Darcy said, wishing he would have. _Say something, Darcy. Give me a reason not to marry him, and I swear I won't. _Oh, how he loved her so, to put her happiness above his deepest desire. Her.

"But you have feelings for her," Richard accused.

"Steady, Richard," Darcy said, laughing bitterly. If he was going to throw away any chance at future happiness, he might as well do it properly. "I do enjoy Elizabeth's company immensely. But while you are rich enough not to consider her dowry, and are infatuated by her agreeable face, you should remember that neither her dowry nor her dull appearance are handsome enough to tempt me."

"How dare you insult her..."

Richard was interrupted by Mr. Bennet, who opened the door suddenly and walked out into the courtyard.

"Lord Fitzwilliam," He said clearly. "It has been brought to my attention that you have made an offer of marriage to my Lizzy. I believe we have some things to discuss."

"Of course, sir," Lord Fitzwilliam said, following Mr. Bennet inside.

Elizabeth ran in after them, and Darcy, realizing she had heard the whole thing, chased after her.

"Elizabeth!"

But he barely made it inside before Elizabeth was surrounded by a large group of women, who ushered her into an upstairs room quickly. He followed behind like a helpless puppy, unsure how or why he had made such a mess of things.

_It's for her own good, Darcy,_ he thought. _It is what will make her happy. _

* * *

><p>So there they were, on both sides of a door that they had both slammed shut.<p>

_"You must remember that neither her dowry nor her dull appearance are handsome enough to tempt me." _

Elizabeth leaned her forehead against the wall, but startled upright as soon as the door opened.

Richard was standing there, looking nervous, with her father and Mr. Darcy behind him.

"I have just discussed this union with Lord Fitzwilliam, my dear Lizzy," Mr. Bennet said. "And if you will accept him, your mother and I would very much support your decision."

Richard smiled nervously at her.

Elizabeth gave a watery smile, and she hoped they thought she was crying tears of happiness. "Of course, of course I accept!"

She ran into Richard's open arms, and he swept her into a hug. Looking over his shoulder, and making eye contact with Darcy, she said, with the utmost conviction, "I love you, Fitzwilliam."

She pulled away, smiling brightly at Lord Fitzwilliam, while Mr. Darcy stood alone, forsaken, in the hallway, feeling as if she had just ripped his heart out of his chest, and eaten it in front of him.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hey, everyone! Like always, I want to apologize for how long it takes me to update this story. It's just so easy for this to get lost in the shuffle of everything that I am doing, but hopefully since school is almost over this year, I will be able to devote more time to this story (and others!) this summer!**

**Just some clarification/reminders:**

**I have always said that there will be a happily ever after for almost everyone in this story. However, I am not planning on all of our favorite characters getting their happy ending in the most ****_traditional_**** manner. So if you're patient and stick with me, I promise that even though for a while everyone is going to be going through a lot of rough stuff, at the end of the story, most of the characters will be happy! So just be patient!**

**Also, the line breaks are POV changes, and I just wanted to apologize for some confusion in the last chapter, when there were a lot of flashback scenes that added to the confusion. In this chapter, though I usually stick to Elizabeth and Darcy's POVs, this time I am adding a few scenes from Richard and Jane's perspective, as well. **

**Again, a huge thank you to everyone who has followed this story-your reviews mean the world to me!**

**xx-M**

* * *

><p>"My dear, how are you holding up?"<p>

"You could have warned me how...formidable...your aunt is."

Lord Fitzwilliam only laughed and said, "Nothing I could have said would have prepared you for her, my dear."

Elizabeth cringed at the words 'my dear', but said nothing.

Instead, she responded with a laugh, "She surely is to comment on us being out here by ourselves without a chaperone. It's hardly proper."

They were walking around the garden together at Rosings. After the engagement, summons from Lady Catherine herself were offered to the Bennets, and then subsequently the Bingleys to spend the month in the grand mansion. Fortunately, Mr. Bennet insisted that only Jane, Elizabeth, and Mrs. Bennet go.

Richard laughed, and dared to grab her hand. "Let her say anything she wants, but now that we are engaged, it hardly matters what we do in the privacy of my aunt's garden."

Uncomfortable with his insinuation, Elizabeth changed the subject.

"She is terribly unhappy with my being here, isn't she? She does not want you to marry someone of my station."

"You should know that I do not care what my aunt thinks. I do not care what anyone thinks. I love you. That is all that matters to me."

Elizabeth gave him a small smile, and, touched at his words, placed a chaste kiss upon his cheek.

"How did I ever get so lucky?" She asked quietly.

"I believe that I am the lucky one, Miss Elizabeth."

"Lord Fitzwilliam..."

"When are you ever going to call me Richard?"

"Perhaps when we are married. Or maybe after our first child. Or grandchild!"

"Always teasing," Richard said, tapping her nose with his finger.

"Always flirting," Elizabeth said, wrinkling her nose. Richard stepped into her, backing her into the hedge behind her.

A throat cleared behind them, and they startled away from each other.

Anne de Bourgh and Mr. Darcy were standing behind them. Darcy averted his eyes from the scene, but Anne looked on with curious eyes. Elizabeth resisted the urge to glare at her.

She surely could do without clinging to Darcy's arm so tightly.

Georgiana and Caroline Bingley quickly appeared behind them, and then came Jane and Charles.

Seeing the laugh that burst forth from Caroline and Georgiana's stricken expression, Richard realized that he was still standing awfully close to Elizabeth, and his arm was still wrapped around her waist.

He quickly dropped his hands and stepped even farther away. Elizabeth was blushing furiously, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from Mr. Darcy. He looked like he had just been punched in the face. _This is your fault, _she wanted to say.

She turned away when Georgiana stumbled forward, and made excuses about being tired and wanting to go lay down before dinner.

Darcy started to follow her, but Richard stepped forward. "I'll go check on her, Darce."

He turned to Elizabeth, "Are you alright finishing the walk with Jane and Charles? I need to check on Georgiana...it hasn't been easy for her to come here...the last time she was here was when she met Wickham."

"Of course," Elizabeth said. "Give her my love, and I'll see you for dinner."

"I love you," Richard whispered as he ran after Georgiana.

"Hardly proper," Caroline mumbled as she gazed at his retreating form.

"Running?" Elizabeth asked incredulously.

"And being stumbled upon in a compromising situation in the garden. Or was it the apple orchard? I forget."

Elizabeth was rendered speechless. "How do you know about that?"

Caroline smiled. "Loose lips sink ships, Miss Eliza, or in your case, reputations. And our dear Mr. Darcy's lips are much looser after a bottle of port."

Elizabeth hastened away from her, and began walking with Jane and Charles.

"I am sorry to intrude, but I can't stand walking another second with that dreadful...oh, I'm sorry Mr. Bingley, I'm so..."

Charles cut her off with a laugh. "Don't worry, Miss Elizabeth, I know how you feel about my sister."

"That doesn't give me leave..." She trailed off when they turned the corner and found Darcy and Anne laughing heartily together, and Darcy's arm wrapped around her waist.

"They seem close," Jane commented.

"Yes, Lord Fitzwilliam did mention something about them..." Elizabeth commented, trying not to appear too interested.

"Yes, well, as always with Richard and Darcy...it's complicated."

"Pray tell," Jane said teasingly. "Don't be so cruel as to leave us hanging, Mr. Bingley, you know how Lizzy loves her gossip!"

Charles laughed, and continued, "Well, Lady Fitzwilliam, Mrs. Darcy, and Lady Catherine are all sisters, and when Richard, Anne, ad Darcy were children, Lady Catherine tried to arrange a marriage between Anne and Darcy, because, at that time, Richard wasn't going to inherit anything. Naturally, Mrs. Darcy refused the betrothal, because she didn't want to force Darcy into anything, but his father wanted to expand the family fortune and reputation. However, Darcy wasn't made aware of any of this until his parents passing, so it is ultimately still his decision. Regardless, Anne, Richard, and Darcy were very close growing up. The complicated bit is that, though neither Darcy or Fitzwilliam have any feelings for Anne, Anne has always ...fondness for Richard."

At this, Charles cleared his throat.

"Does Lord Fitzwilliam know about...her feelings?" Elizabeth asked delicately.

"Oh, no. Anne confided in Darcy last summer about her feelings towards Richard, and has asked that he not tell Richard."

"But Darcy told you?" Elizabeth asked.

"There is no need to sound so incredulous, Miss Elizabeth, I believe last summer Darcy felt too weighed down with secrets. Besides, I've spent summers here at Rosings for as long as Darcy and I have been friends. For as long as I can remember. Anne trusts me, too."

A heavy look passed between them.

"Not to mention, I am Darcy's best friend." He bumped Elizabeth's shoulder playfully. "Or, at least, I used to be."

Elizabeth hated the word _friend_.

* * *

><p>"You'll have to forgive my manners, Fitzwilliam. I know it is improper to be so forward, but is there something going on between you and Miss Elizabeth?"<p>

"What makes you say that, dear Anne? She is betrothed to Richard."

Anne ducked her head. "I know that, believe me, I am well aware of that fact. But when we came upon them earlier..."

"I should have a word with your mother about that. She should get rid of these maze-like hedges. It is much less easy to come upon two people sharing a moment if there are no convenient hiding places."

"Feel free to converse with her about the topic, Will. But don't expect her to budge on this issue; those hedges make her feel like the queen of England."

"God forbid your mother is ever the queen, Anne," Darcy chuckled.

"Her first order of business would be arranging our marriage, no doubt."

Darcy laughed heartily and wrapped his arm around Anne's waist.

Anne smiled at him. "There he is," she said, poking him in the chest. "I've been waiting for you to show up since you've arrived. Tell me, what did I say to make you come out of your shell?"

Darcy glanced behind them, where Elizabeth was walking with Jane and Charles, and looking on them with unforgiving eyes.

He attempted a small smile and turned to Anne, "You just reminded me of someone I miss dearly."

"Elizabeth?"

Darcy nodded and pulled her into the most intimate hug they had shared since childhood. "Keep teasing me and I might tell you the whole story, dear cousin."

"Only if I still like her at the end of this story, Will. I don't think I could stand it if Rich married someone I didn't like."

"You shall not have to worry about that, Anne. If Miss Elizabeth has a fault, it is only that she enchants everyone she meets."

"If only her mother had that effect."

* * *

><p>Richard had to run inside to catch Georgiana before she locked herself in her room.<p>

"Georgie!" He caught her by the arm gently, and pulled her into him.

"Richard, leave me alone, _please_," She said, pushing against him.

"Is this about Wickham? Because if it is..."

"It's about everything, Richard! Just let me... Just leave me alone. Contrary to popular belief around here, I can take care of myself."

"Is that right? Because suddenly memories of a few months ago are flooding over me, when you said those exact words, and then I walked in on you with your wrists slit open and an empty bottle of port in your cold dead hand! So forgive me..."

"How dare you bring up that night? Here? Now? How _dare _you?"

"Georgie, please!"

"What did you expect, Richard? That coming back here would be easy for me? That Wickham, that everything would be easy for me? Because it isn't! But I'm not...I'm not the same girl from last fall. You of all people should know that."

The door was slammed and locked before Richard could think of a proper comeback.

Richard rushed off to the study, already pouring himself a tall cup of brandy before he realized that Caroline Bingley was waiting for him, holding a half empty cup herself.

"Sure this is proper, Caroline?" Richard asked, taking a swig.

Caroline laughed quietly. "I can handle my liquor, Richard. Don't you remember?"

Richard gave her a shallow smile, and sat across from her. "I'm surprised you do."

"Why? Because I haven't tried to force you into a marriage yet?"

Richard raised his glass to her. "Precisely. That was the biggest surprise of that whole summer, which is saying something. Was it because I didn't have money yet?"

Caroline smiled. "You really do think little of me, don't you? But maybe I shouldn't be surprised. Everyone does."

She took a long swig. "Yes, it was partly because you didn't have money yet that I never told anyone and forced your hand. And it was partly because I don't think Charles would have believed me even if I had told him...and by the time your brother died and you gained his inheritance, he definitely wouldn't have believed me. But I think...I think it was mostly because I was in love with you."

Richard's mouth dropped open. "Me? But you've always had a soft spot for Darcy!"

Caroline threw her head back and laughed. "True! So true, I do love to make him blush. And he would make a wonderful _rich _husband. Plus he would be an amazing father. But that summer, here with you?"

She laughed again.

"You made my heart race, Richard. You set me on fire for you. I was infatuated...I was in love. I wanted you to propose because you wanted to, not because I was blackmailing you because of one night. And then after, when I realized the entire summer had just been...that you weren't in love with me, you just wanted to use me for my body, Darcy was there. And Darcy was kind, always kind. But he never wanted me, either. Not really."

She finished her drink.

"Perhaps that's why I hate Elizabeth Bennet so much. She enchanted both of you without even trying."

Richard took a bitter swig.

"It's so strange being back here," Caroline said quietly. "This house is chalk full of secrets."

"Do you think she's in love with him?"

"Elizabeth? In love with Darcy?"

Richard nodded. Caroline folded her hands in her lap, and pursed her lips at him.

"If there is one thing I know about Elizabeth Bennet, it is that she believes in the idea of _true love_. If you think you were her first marriage proposal, think again. She held out for love. So I would stop cutting glares at Darcy. Elizabeth held out for you. Stop second guessing yourself."

"I see her look at him. I would give anything for her to look at me like that."

"It's in your head, Richard. She doesn't love him."

"Here's to hoping you're right," Richard said, raising a glass. "Because I love her too much to consider the possibility of you being wrong."

* * *

><p>"So you're in love with her?" Anne asked incredulously. Darcy had just finished the entire story, all the way up to Elizabeth confessing her love to Richard in front of him, and accepting Richard's marriage proposal.<p>

"Fitzwilliam Darcy is in _love_?"

"You say that like it's the most preposterous thing in the world."

"The fact that you're in love? Yes, that is the most incredulous thing in the world. But you giving her up? Letting Richard have her? Sacrificing your feelings for everyone else? That is so _typical _of you. I've always said your selflessness will be your downfall."

"Most people think it's my pompousness, or my ridiculously good looking hair," Darcy teased.

Anne shoved him. "What does Elizabeth think your downfall is?"

"Undoubtedly my pride. And my unwillingness to forgive. We share that quality."

He smiled thinking about the memory of that conversation.

_"Eventually, you are going to have to forgive Wickham, Fitzwilliam. If not for Georgiana's sake, because it has to be awful carrying around the guilt for your brother's anger, but for your own, because it's doing no good to you carrying all of that fury around with you."  
><em>

_"Okay," Darcy said. "Done. But first you forgive Powell." _

_Elizabeth smiled at him, caught. "Touché, Mr. Darcy," she curtsied at him, bowing her head only for a moment. _

_She sat down, and he sat next to her. He was surprised when she took his hand, but he didn't dare to pull away. _

_"It should be easier, you know?"_

_"What should be easier, Elizabeth?"_

_"Everything." She laughed, and leaned her head on his shoulder. "Forgiveness. Life. Being happy."_

_He pulled back and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. "Only Jane thinks it's easy, and that's only because she's an angel. The rest of us mere mortals struggle to wake up in the morning, let alone forgive people who have wronged us so irreparably." _

_Elizabeth laughed hard, leaning her head into his chest. Darcy smiled down at her. "Jane, an angel! On that we can agree, Fitzwilliam!"_

_They sat like that for a while, holding hands, Elizabeth's head against his chest, Darcy's arm strewn around her shoulders. _

_"Do you think it will be easy for me one day, too? Being happy? Forgiving?"_

_Darcy pulled away and grabbed both of her hands, looking deeply into her eyes. "I wish it, Elizabeth. I wish it more than anything."_

"Will? Will come back to me!" Anne grabbed his shoulders and gently pulled her chin to face his. "Where'd you go there for a minute?"

"I'll give you three guesses."

"You've got it bad."

"The worst part about it is that she loves me, too. She doesn't deny her feelings. She just loves him so much...more. I can't be selfish with her, Anne. She deserves the world, and I can't stand in her way. She deserves it."

"I understand," Anne said. "Believe me, I do. The only difference is that I _know _Richard _doesn't _deserve it. He doesn't deserve _her. _He deserves nothing. But he's just so damn _charming._"

"You still love him?"

"Undoubtedly."

* * *

><p>"Elizabeth, there you are!" Mrs. Bennet called from the sitting room. "Girls, how was your walk?"<p>

Elizabeth and Jane had just returned from the garden, and Charles had excused himself to the study to be with Richard. They walked into the sitting room, where Lady Catherine, Mrs. Bennet, and Lady Matlock were sitting around various cloth samples, and pictures of elegant ladies holding elegant flowers wearing elegant dresses. Caroline was standing over them, gesturing theatrically.

"Lovely," Jane answered.

"Yes, Lady Catherine, you have the most excellent grounds," Elizabeth added.

"Quite," Lady Catherine agreed.

"We've just been going over some wedding plans. We'd love to hear your opinions," Lady Matlock said gently. Elizabeth smiled warmly at her. She had just met Richard's parents, but she absolutely adored his mother.

"I certainly have several opinions about the ceremony," Lady Catherine said.

"Well, I am sure that your opinion is without flaw, Lady Catherine. Seeing as I have little experience with weddings, I will surely default to your esteemed ladyship for all advice and decision making."

Jane couldn't help but hold back a grin, and Lady Matlock giggled a little. But what was most surprising was a loud chuckle from the door.

Anne was standing in the doorway with her arms crossed. "May I offer my assistance, as well?" she said, striding to the table. "I am not one for elaborate wedding planning, but I don't think I could stand to miss this." Her lips twitched as she sat across from her mother.

In Elizabeth's opinion, wedding was the most meticulous thing to ever undergo. If it had not been for everyone's subtle degradation of Lady Catherine, Elizabeth would have drowned herself in samples of lace and silk and stabbed herself in the chest with the stems of flower arrangements.

She also often found Anne studying her, like she was trying to see into her mind and find out all of her secrets.

It was disconcerting being in a room surrounded by people that she didn't know, and so it was a huge relief when dinner was announced.

She stood, and was met with Anne taking her arm to escort her to the dining room.

"I think you and I are going to be excellent friends, even if you did steal the love of my life." She whispered as the entire party entered the dining room.

As soon as Darcy walked into the room, Elizabeth felt as if she had been physically struck by his presence. Her entire body _ringed, _her bones tingled. God forbid he look at her, or she would surely burst into flames.

"My dear, how was your afternoon?" Lord Fitzwilliam whispered in her ear.

"Too much wedding planning," Elizabeth said softly, overcome by the smell of alcohol on his breath. "I feel like stabbing myself in the eye with embroidery needles. How is Georgiana?"

"I..."

"Everyone, please be seated!" Lady Catherine said from the head of the table. Elizabeth rushed to find her place card, and take her seat, only to turn and face Mr. Darcy, who was assigned to the seat next to hers.

* * *

><p>Jane had to hold back a laugh when she saw the conflicted look on Elizabeth's face when she saw that Darcy was sitting next to her. The entire situation was so, so infuriating. Who knows what force controls her sister's emotions?<p>

She turned to Anne de Bourgh, who was winking at Mr. Darcy. Mr. Darcy was trying his best not to smile.

"Did you just wink at him?" Jane asked in a low voice.

"I might have...changed our seating arrangement."

"He told you? About...him and my sister?"

Anne nodded. "It is as complicated and melodramatic as he made it seem?"

"Most likely more so."

Anne laughed. "Nothing can be easy, can it?"

* * *

><p>During the second course, Darcy couldn't resist any longer.<p>

He waited until Richard was involved in a conversation with his mother across the table. "How are you?" he asked in a low voice to Elizabeth.

"I'm still recovering from a recent insult, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said coldly, wiping her mouth and then taking a drink. "Apparently, I am not quite _tempting_ for the tastes of some."

"Please let me explain," Darcy pleaded.

"It's a little too late, for that, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said. "There is nothing left to possibly say."

"Miss Elizabeth," Aunt Catherine crooned from the head of the table, "pray, what is your age?"

Without thinking, without pondering the consequences, without even daring to breathe, Darcy slid his left hand underneath the table cloth.

He was no longer listening to the conversation, he was just hoping, praying that Elizabeth would not misunderstand, that she would get his message.

He slowly and deliberately found her thigh underneath the table, and began to spell out letters over her dress with his finger. It was a game he would play with Georgiana when they were little.

He felt Elizabeth gasp next to him, and repeated the message over and over again until she looked at him and nodded.

* * *

><p>Elizabeth hated herself for gasping. She hated herself for that stupid small moment of weakness, and she hated even more the blush that followed.<p>

She prayed that Richard wouldn't notice that Darcy's hand had gone missing, and that she was blushing and had fallen oddly silent.

At first, she didn't realize what Darcy was doing. And for a few moments, she didn't care that it was improper, she didn't care that she hated him for hurting her, she was so overwhelmed by the intimacy of his touch and the warmth and the feelings that arose in her because of it, that she couldn't help but gasp and move closer to him, praying that he wouldn't stop.

But then she recognized a pattern in his movements, and after several moments, she finally understood the message he was trying to send her.

I-M-I-S-S-Y-O-U-C-O-M-E-F-I-N-D-M-E

It was all she could do to nod, and she felt weak in the knees when his hand left her body.

She didn't know what it felt like to touch Mr. Darcy until she couldn't anymore. She thought back to all of their encounters in the mornings, how carefree she was around him, how easily and readily and naturally she would brush against him or steady herself, hands to his chest, or even bump into him or rest against him.

How could she not have noticed how much life his touch gave her until she couldn't feel it anymore?

* * *

><p>Jane was, in a word, uncomfortable. Richard was sitting two seats down from her, next to his mother, who was lecturing him about drinking. Awkward.<p>

On her other side, Anne de Bourgh was talking with her mother and Charles, and Jane, for the first time in her life, wished she could rip out her mother's vocal chords so she could cease embarrassing herself and her children.

And on Jane's right side, next to Richard, Caroline sat, hiccuping.

"Are you drunk?" Jane asked her in an undertone.

Caroline giggled. "Richard and I might have broken into her ladyship's liquor cabinet while you guys were walking."

"You and Richard?" Jane asked.

Caroline sobered suddenly. "Jane, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, Caroline," Jane said.

"Would you lie to someone if you thought it was in their best interest?"

Jane thought for a moment, and then said, "If it was in their best interest, yes I suppose."

"How does she do it?" Caroline asked wistfully.

"Do what?" Jane asked.

"How does she make everyone fall in love with her like that?"

Jane followed Caroline's gaze to Elizabeth, who was looking down at her soup while Richard and Darcy stared longingly at her.

"You'd think Darcy would at least try to hide how he's feeling," Caroline snorted into her soup.

* * *

><p>After the women and the men separated after dinner, Elizabeth excused herself from the wedding planning.<p>

"I'm terribly tired, and I'm sure you all will make quite capable decisions in my absence, but I fear I would be no help to you now."

"You could at least pretend that you care, Lizzy," Jane admonished, but Elizabeth yawned and left the room.

Somehow, she knew. It was like he was drawing her towards him.

She stepped onto the balcony outside of her bedroom, and suddenly she couldn't breathe to save her life and it felt like the entire world had come crashing down in this moment and nothing mattered anymore because

There.

He.

Was.

The wind had blown his hair back and his top button was undone and the moon was casting long shadows making him seem even more perfect.

"You shouldn't be here," Elizabeth said, only she meant, "I can't stand missing you,"

"I know," Darcy replied, instead of saying, "I think I'd rather die than have you marry Richard."

"We shouldn't be doing this," Elizabeth said as she took a step closer to him.

"I know."

"I can't do this," Elizabeth said, and her voice broke.

"I know."

"No, you don't!" A tear slipped from her cheek. Darcy stepped closer to her.

"I am so angry with you." She said.

"I am so sorry, Elizabeth..."

A sharp crack filled the air as Elizabeth slapped him hard across the face.

"You don't get to call me that anymore! You don't get to write secret messages on my knee! Whatever this is, whatever we had... You insulted me. You hurt me. You pushed me away, so many times. I chose Richard. You don't get to miss me."

"But I do."

"I don't care."

"Then why did you come? To hurt me? To slap me?"

"I CAME BECAUSE I MISS YOU TOO, DAMN IT. BUT YOU DID THIS. You're the one who rejected me. You're the one who only wanted to be friends. I can't be your friend, Darcy, not like this, not in secret, and not when Richard is so insecure about our relationship. I'm sorry. But we can't do this anymore."

"What about you? What about your feelings?"

"What about them? I am so tired of getting hurt by you. Goodnight, Mr. Darcy."


End file.
